So far this year Axl has had heartworms, Sloppy has had both surgery on his teeth and an ear infection, and Leroy…has remained in perfect health, though his fear of any noise above a feather touching the ground is a bit disconcerting.
This past week, Sloppy decided to once again get sick. It was an episode of doggie diarrhea befitting of his name.

It’s meant the ladyfriend and I have spent good portions of the last few days on our hands and knees scrubbing horrendously foul messes out of our floors. Now, you might think his name is cruel…but then, you haven’t met him. Sloppy is some mix of Lhasa Apsa and a-hole. He hates bicycles and bites babies. If he was a human he would be a short, swarthy fat man with a combover and mustache. We love Sloppy, but he is a most difficult dog who is happiest when he is full, grooming himself, and laying in a bed.

Anyway, after three days it passed but I’m left with this visual. It’s Friday night and I’m kneeling over Sloppy, tucking his head under my rump so he can’t bite me and holding his tail straight up like a furry stick-shift so the ladyfriend could get a perfect angle on the brown mess scattered across his backside and stuck in his fur. The ladyfriend set about cutting out the effected fur with a pair of tiny scissors. We did this while holding our noses and talking in gasping breaths.

This morning while getting ready for work I looked in the mirror and spotted a stray nose hair reaching out from my nostril like a wily tree branch. I reached for the pair of scissors…the same grooming scissors the ladyfriend had used to excise the nastiness.

I got it halfway up there before I remembered the scene from Friday night.