Science, Anti-Depressants and the Joys of Marriage

03.25.2005 1:47 p.m.
Discussions about a dog and proof that I'm shallow

So, my ex called last night to give me a bit more detail about what is going on with the Irish dog.

He didn't have much time to talk to the vet before he had to take the puppy back home so he could go teach a class, but he went over what she told him. Basically, she told him the same things I found while doing my research.

We both agreed that even with the surgery, there's no guarantee that she would be able to let it heal up as it should. Even with the surgery, she will most likely develop arthritis in at least that leg, if not all of them. We both agreed that we couldn't see her living a quality life if she had problems walking on one leg (with other legs most likely to have issues in the future) and if she was in pain.

The part that worries me even more than the leg is that she's also been having a problem with wetting the bed.

I know that doesn't seem like too big of a deal, but it really is for her. While I lived there, she only had one accident in the house EVER. We were gone for quite a while one day, and when we got home she seemed ashamed. I vaguely remember her leading us downstairs to the unfinished part of the basement with the cement floor, where we found a little pile of poo. She was slinking around like, "I suck, I know. Please don't yell too much."

She knew she couldn't wait any longer, and she chose a spot that would be easiest to clean up, as opposed to the cats who seem to go out of their way to vomit/pee/have intestinal distress on the few remaining carpets in the house.

He said that for about six months she's been leaking a bit, but she has actually fully let her bladder go in her sleep twice in the past week.

So, I don't know where that leaves us.

He's supposed to talk to the vet a bit more today and he said he'll call me with the update.

If I do end up getting bad news this weekend, it's not like it won't fit in with other Easter weekends the past few years.

Let's see... A year ago tomorrow my uncle died. Three years ago this coming Thursday, my grandpa died.

Easter weekend has just generally been a shitty weekend the past few years. This year doesn't seem to be an exception.

I told my husband last night after getting off the phone with my ex that I'd like to somehow be knocked unconscious for about 5 days around Easter next year.

(I remember seeing someone be kept asleep on Ally McBeal a long, long time ago, so I'm sure there's some way to do it. TV is always real, right?)

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In slightly happier news, today I'm wearing a dress that I bought off of eBay. I tried it on last night for Mr. Science-Girl, and I could almost feel the sudden jump in the amount of testosterone in the room. He likey.

For anyone who cares, it's a black turtleneck sweater dress with 3/4 sleeves. It's clingy enough that I feel like I need to be sucking my gut in a bit, which I do, when I remember. I also find myself wishing I could somehow make my ass look smaller. I don't think that's really suck-in-able, though.

I'm wearing my kick-ass knee-high sexay sexay boots over pantycrack'hos, as the delectable Kelly calls them.

One co-worker (female) told me that I look great today. She even went so far as to say I look like a model. Another co-worker (male) asked me if I was going to a funeral.

"Well, I mean...it's a nice dress. I like it. It's just...black."

I should show him my closet sometime. About 60% of my clothing is black. I'm a goth in disguise.

Edited on Monday to add:

Here's a picture of me in the dress.