Hey Old Man.

No, not the hubs.  Even though he is in his late twenties.  THE DOG.  Every once in a while the world’s craziest dog becomes the oldest two year old dog ever.  Our theory is he has a bit of early arthritis due to his badass injury.  So we gave him some pills to help his joints last time this happened and then he became his hyper annoying self so we stopped the pills. 

Come Saturday morning and he’s old dog again.  Like really old.  Like can barely walk, can’t jump up onto his favorite chair, won’t eat.  You get the picture.  So I’m all “He has Lyme’s disease!  He has Lyme’s disease!  Call the vet, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY.”

Meanwhile the hubs is all, “I think I’m going to go visit my parents.  Do you think I should take the highway or the scenic route?”

I stay home since I’m battling the worst ever recorded case of allergies and upper respiratory infection and possible strep throat.  But I didn’t think it was important enough to go to the doctor, BECAUSE THE DOG IS LAME.  Finally yesterday morning I decide that if my dog’s health is important enough for a vet appointment that maybe my health should be equally as cared for.  So I go to the doctor and threw my $25 co-pay to the wind when the doctor tells me I have a stuffy nose, go home and take some Dayquil. 

At least I was feeling well enough to capture the old man in all of his glory:

Mom, I’m tired.  Enough already.

SRSLY, Mom?  This angle makes my butt look huge.

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