The Pandemic Soul

I’m already cranky today because I didn’t get a bunch of sleep last night (due to the steroids I’m taking for mono). Then, had to go to this family function out at my dad’s farm. It’s not a farm-farm, just a tree-farm, with two ponds for fishing. Anyway, all of his wife’s family was there for it.

I took my dog with me so he could run around and see the other dogs (everyone brought at least one dog, it seems…). In the process he got himself all muddy, which is fine, because I had planned for this. So my intention was to take him to PETCO to get groomed, being that trying to bathe him at home is a nightmare. He seems to believe it complete and total torture, which makes it difficult to just shampoo him.

I called ahead to the PETCO and told the guy I was coming he. He said no problem, just bring the dog. I had to drive all the way to West Little Rock, which is about 45 minutes from the farm, and 30 minutes past my apartment down-town. Still, no problem because I wanted to pick up a prescription in WLR, and go get my special herbal toothpaste from that healthfood store that upcharges everything $10, and go see Lindsey’s new house.

However, when I show up at PETCO, I’m told that I need my dog’s rabies and bordatella history, which I clearly don’t have on me. So I try and call the vet to see if they can pull my dog’s records, but I’m told that all they’re doing today is boarding. At this point, I’m royally pissed off because I know I DON’T want to have to shampoo my damn dog, and all I want these bitches to do is take him the fuck back to a sink, rinse his dirty ass off, and keep him for a few hours so I don’t have to worry about him.

No dice.

So I try going to PetSmart, which I don’t WANT to do, because the last time I was there they didn’t actually DO anything to my dog, and when I raised a fuss about it with the manager later, he tried to play it off like they had only “lightly” shampoo’d him or some shit like that. Whatever, I’ll take the chance. They, too, want updated vaccination records, though, so again I’m out of luck.

Argh.

So I ended up having to do it myself, and, as always, it was a nightmare. He squirmed, fussed, peed on my bathroom mat, got me all wet, and generally acted like a pain-in-my-ass dog would on the day I don’t want to deal with him.

Now he’s sitting on the couch staring at me like if I get near him he’ll bite the hell out of me and claw my eyes out. Little shit.