Can has Internet! And a hurt pup :(

Yesterday I got internet!

Unfortunately, the night before my little beag was attacked.  Remember this precious guy?


Also pictured here:

zomg!  I love playing in the snow!

zomg! I love playing in the snow!

In what was probably the most terrifying moment of my life, my favorite little guy in the entire world got attacked by a dog the size of a horse, who is “just a big teddy bear!”  (Apologies. I’ve been working really hard to be civil with the other dog’s owners and they have been very sweet and supportive, going to the vet with us and giving us all the info on their dog’s immunizations and such.  But that has forced me to censor my absolute rage at the incident.  So I have to vent it somewhere).  Boyfriend and I were at the vet until 3am.  Then I stayed up to watch the pup detox from the sedative and make sure he was generally okay.  So I was pretty much awake for 48 hours observing my dog and cleaning dog stitches and desperately trying to get him to eat so he could take his medicines.

I learned something about myself:  I am not a caretaker.  I think I ground my teeth down to a fine powder trying to make sure he was okay and that I didn’t ruin my dog because I wanted to walk him before I took a shower.  I knew, cognitively, that he was okay, especially after like 13 info-seeking phone calls to the emergency vet, “Is it normal to not eat?” “He’s shaking; why is he shaking?” “He didn’t poop today!  He loves pooping! Why isn’t he pooping?”

I also learned, that people in general do not know how to comfort atheists.  Not that I’m going to be mad at people when they say they’ll pray for my dog or we’ll be in their prayers.  It’s a sweet sentiment that means something to them, so I accept that.  But when people know you are an atheist (those who are religious), I can pretty much see the awkwardness when they are trying to figure out what to say to comfort me.  It’s very simple really.  “That sucks.  I’m sorry.”  If you want to give more than that, you can go with this “It will be okay.  You can handle this.”  I feel like this could be it’s whole own post, so I’m going to stop here.

Anyway, this has been rambling enough.  And my dog is finally wanting to cuddle with me again.  So I’m going to put together a nice stream of Netflix documentaries and feed some happy vibes (and a cocktail of peanut butter and puppy painkillers) to my monster.

No worries.  I’m confident that he’ll be back to being as triumphant and sassy as a Kanye West/Martin Freeman baby in no time!

And then you will get many more gems of posts including ones about over-confident assholes, Edward Snowden, and Slutwalk, and SlutShaming at the VMAs!

Until THEN!  Here’s my most adorable little  roygle poigle again!  (He’s a pointer/beagle mix, poigle.  get it? like Reagle Beagle?  You people suck)

The cape gives me super-healing powers! (Actually this is an old photo.  I would never dress up a wounded dog.  That's just mean.)

The cape gives me super-healing powers!
(Actually this is an old photo. I would never dress up a wounded dog. That’s just mean.)


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