Big S needs a labotomy...

Topic of this entry is my other, less desirable, never adorable, child... Big S the dog. Big S is wearing out his welcome.

Big S got to spend the day separated from his cohort Little P. Little P is a bad influence on the big oaf. So Big S got locked in our bedroom for the day while Little P got gated in the mud room. But Big S can open doors, and he escaped, and rebelled. He pooped in Miss M's room, peed on a basket of her toys, ate a whole bag of homemade cookies, and tore up the bathroom trash. What fun for him, what a mess for us. He was chastised, and I know that people say that once the damage is done a dog doesn't know what he's being disciplined for, but I think Big S knew because the next day he was a relative angel. Seriously, anyone need an extra oaf? I have one, give him to you free!

But alas, I'm afraid my hopes of freeing myself from the obligation that is Bis S will be dashed with my next revelation. Last night I took Big S to the vet to finally check out the pink spots on his belly. And walked out $370 poorer. Apparently the food alergies that have caused him to itch have resulted in an itch-induced bacterial infection that requires the world's most expensive antibiotics, and the world's most expensive anti-histamines (and anti-fungal shampoo, and fish oil capsules). So now we need to figure out yet another food option for him, clear up this infection, and try to keep him from getting another one, or he will once again be perscribed the world's most expensive antibiotics. Do I have time for a high maintenance dog? NO! Am I going to take care of this idiot until the day he dies? YES. I'm such a sucker. On the up side, we learned that Big S does not have arthritis, as a previously (clueless) vet had suggested.