mange and bunnies and hangovers, oh my

*   Isis does in fact have mange. As soon as I mentioned my suspicions she FWOOMP! Started going bald, in double-time, and got bumpy and welty and infected all over. She is now on amoxicillin and ivermectin, and after two doses of each is a new dog. Still itchy and balding, but no longer red-spotted and miserable. So here we go again...she's lucky she's cute.

*   I went back and forth, and finally today while at work decided that Pfeffer ought to come back from Squatter Workshop into the house to have her babies. So naturally she had them today before I got home. Seven squirmy pink kits, and they were nice and toasty-warm when we discovered them but I did some reading that confirmed that they'd be better off indoors with the temperature going down so low overnight. So I deposited my body-warmed sweatshirt, with the arms tied in a knot to form a pouch, on a dismayed Hotter's chest full of baby bunnies to keep warm while I moved Pfeffer into our living room. The babies are nestled into a dryer-shrunken angora sweater of mine, inside a box of hay under a layer of Pfeffer-fur and seem none the worse for wear.

*   I had a wretched hangover today, because yesterday was kind of ridiculous and I ended up dislocating my thumb. Which sucks as much as you'd think, and I ended up shotgunning a bottle of wine and popping it back into place myself. No, that's not ideal. But it's faster, cheaper, and more badass than going to the ER. Then Hotter took out the entirety of the shitty situation on me in juvenile form and berated me for not going to the store and buying him some fucking milk BEFORE getting inebriated and fixing my thumb. Mind you, I'd bought milk the day before. But he is "on a milk kick." And I am an inconsiderate wife. And once he finished telling me just what a selfish twat I'd been not to check whether he needed anything from me before attending to my dislocated appendage and rendering myself unfit to run errands I decided "BOGO wine" meant "drink the other bottle too."

*   I kind of think the medication adjustment didn't work, and don't really have anything to say about that at the moment, except: DAMN (Hotter's neurological mishegas manifests in a collection of ways, most dramatic of which is an uncharacteristic and yelly complete disregard for the comfort and feelings of others, mostly yours truly). And COULD I PLEASE JUST HAVE A FUCKING MINUTE, LIFE, TO GATHER MY WITS BETWEEN CATASTROPHES? 

*   Apparently not.

*   There is a new Higher-up at work. I don't have a solid opinion of them on an interpersonal basis just  yet, but they are VERY good at the job they were hired to do. Which is good. Because their arrival has caused all sorts of upheaval at my main job. Which? MEH.

*   How are all of YOU?

Comments

[Honestly Wondering]

Sorry to hear about Isis. What's Bumpus up to these days?

[MFA Mama]

Bumpus is his usual houndish self. Which is to say, utterly devoted to Big Child and friendly to the rest of us but hateful to strangers. During the hurricane I convinced Hotter that we ought to invite him into the big bed with us and Isis, but Bumpus preferred to stay in Big Child's room, curled up around his pillow huffing his lord and master's scent.

Sent from The Precious