952. My dog can be a real prick

For the past month or so I’ve been very careful.

I look both ways when I cross the street. I take my vitamins. I stay away from anyone who even looks like they may be coming down with something.

Just last week I invited Julie and her family to dinner. Later in the conversation she mentioned that she wasn’t feeling up to par. I rescinded the invitation.


Because on Wednesday my sister Marcia and I are leaving for our yearly week in Italy. Why Italy again? Good eats and neither of us speaks Italian so we don’t have to talk to anyone but each other.

We look forward to this all year. We love each other so much and for that week we don’t have to think of doing anything  but making ourselves happy.

The other day I was patting myself on the back for being right on schedule for the trip when I noticed that  Ray was limping slightly.

I will save you the details of how limping slightly turned into hopping on 3 legs.

When this guy is happy he looks like he just ate a lemon. Imagine how he looks when he’s sad.

And me leaving him in a few days with… well not me.

I’m boring myself so I’ll just cut to the chase. I took him to the vet.

For only $466 I found that he turned his ankle.

By that night he was walking just fine and dancing like a lunatic when I picked up his leash.

Not to say he didn’t have a pissed off expression on his face.

He isn’t a guy that wants me to have a happy moment. Even though he’s cured he needs to show me that everything still isn’t perfect.


Just now I heard him mumbling the dog version of “ahem” so I would see that  he couldn’t even get up the energy to get his whole body in his bed.

I ignored him but out of the corner of my eye I saw him checking to see why I wasn’t looking.


What a prick.



10 thoughts on “ 952. My dog can be a real prick

  1. No refrigerator magnet or t-shirt for that dopey dog. I want my magnet, though; maybe Il Papa in a new pose, please. Mille Grazie.

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