Who We Think We Are & The Bunghole Bullseye

This raunchy little guy came over and gave our Chihuahua the high hard one.

62 days later she went into labor.

Don’t be a sick ass, the ‘raunchy little guy’ is a Chihuahua too.  Yeah, I know you were going down that road; thinking Hellbilly and I have gone so Ozarkian that we’re now letting little men to bad things to our dogs.

Mama Gay came over because I only know what it’s like to have a  ”>120lb foal come out of a giant horse vag.  This little Chihuahua stuff scared the crap out of me.  I mean, every time I re-read the little book Mama Gay gave me about Chihuahuas and it said the average size of a Chihuahua puppy is 3 – 6 ounces it gave me some kind of vertigo thingy. 

I am Ozarkian enough to say,

3 to 6 ounces?  That just ain’t right!

About 6 hours into the whole thing we called a vet and took our Chihuahua over to have a C-Section. 

You know I’m addicted to our Chihuahua, right?  And she is addicted to me.  And when Mama Gay and I got to the vet’s office and they took her into the back and the next thing that I heard was a screeeeeeech out of her that made my ass clench up the way it always has right before I assault somebody…

The problem with Mama Gay is that she ain’t no fuckin’ joke.  And she laughs a lot when I’m bad.  Like earlier in the day when I sent an email that said,

Why don’t you go fuck yourself,

because I didn’t like one of the responses to my Craigslist ad for the furniture I’m trying to sell.

We know that’s not ok.  We talk about what a more mature, proper, spiritual response would have been.  But we also talk about being too busy for that shit and laugh, and I always think,

Some day I’m not even going to think to send an email like that.

…they took our Chihuahua into the back and we immediately heard a screeeeech and my ass did that clench thing and I kept making demands of the receptionist and so did Mama Gay and I kept looking into the glass case running along the front of the reception area and planning how I was going to put my fist through it and then start taking that place apart bit by bit unless I got what I wanted immediately.

Immediately.

And then some bitch veterinary technician was there and I have no fuckin’ clue what she said until she said,

She wasn’t trying to poop, she was trying to have a puppy.

All I could see was this incredibly strange glittery blue and silver eye shadow she was wearing that, when she blinked, seemed to glow yellow.   Mostly it was strange because it was in the mix of this otherwise plain face with stringy blond hair and thin lips and little ability to have human expression even though she was obviously making a great attempt to school our asses and defend herself from a couple of pissed off bitches.

And I got this urge to pull her eyelids off.

And then the veterinarian was there trying to force me to have our Chihuahua spayed and wasn’t going to give up until I said yes except that I wasn’t going to say yes and all I could think about was our little Chihuahua that I’m addicted to back there hurting and the veterinarian wasting his time trying to make me do something.

I thought:

My chihuahua needs a C-Section.  An emergency C-Section.  You said it, your vet tech said it, and you’re fuckin’ standing here talking to me you fuckin’ fuck.

Why don’t I just give you my debit card so you can get your fuckin’ ass back there and get my dog out of the pain she is in.

Mama Gay and I sat on a bench in the reception area and talked openly in front of the receptionist about how fucked up the whole scene was.

Mama Gay said,

Don’t they know who we think we are?

I laughed and said,

Yeah, they would act completely differently if they knew all that!

She said,

Do you know you said, ‘Why don’t I give you my debit card so you can go get busy’.

Some day I’m not even going to think about saying things like that.

OK, so that’ll never happen.

Our Chihuahua is doing well.  And she is so over being addicted to me now that she has puppies.

I know I’m supposed to have photos of amazingly small Chihuahua puppies at this point.  But I’ve been so fuckin’ lame about blogging that I haven’t kept up with changes to WordPress when it comes to uploading photos. 

Just send your email to thecusp[at]yahoo[dot]com if you want to see them.

P.S.  That Bunghole Bullseye thing?  Hellbilly is keeping the boy puppy who is black but has a light brown ring right around his bunghole.  Just like his daddy.

Uniqua

I once served on this 4 year volunteer committee with a Latin American guy named Roberto.

Every time something upset me I would call him Eduardo.

And I also make jokes about wishing my name was actually ‘Uniqua’. As in, I’m so UNIQUE that my mama knew it the moment I was born and named me in a way that reflected it.

Then we laugh like demented old men.

When there is a rerun of an old Lawrence Welk show on I always watch a little bit.

Then I say to my sweet Hellbilly,

Ooooh babe!  I used to watch Lawrence Welk with Nana and Popa every Saturday night, and Nana and I would just sing and sing and sing.

He’s heard it a million times, but he still smiles and gives me a sweet look.

Then I ask,

You know how Lawrence Welk was always saying ‘Ah-one and, ah-two and, ah-three’ while he waved his little conductor’s wand in the air?

Do you think that was a little sign about how many girls he wanted back in his dressing room later?  Like that little chick with the green polyester suit that sang all the time along with the tap dancing twins?

Then we laugh like dirty old men.

There’s also this commercial on TV that is supposed to be like ‘Timmy’ is all grown up and has a new and younger Lassie dog.  But the guy playing Timmy is all strange and too happy and smiling about, well, things that are nice and important and great and all, but just not all that happy.  Like air.  Or his desk.

I always say,

See how the new and improved Lassie is trying to get grown up Timmy to realize Old Mr. Neighbor Man is stuck in the dank old well outside?

I’ll bet Lassie threw Old Mr. Neighbor Man down there ’cause he tried to touch her in a very bad way.

Then Hellbilly gives me a crazy look.

Then I say,

Maybe she’s trying to say, ‘Stranger Danger!  Stranger Danger!’, but grown up Timmy is too damn happy about his desk or air to know it.

Maybe she’ll lunge at his head while he’s sleeping later.  Shake it around and tell him he’s a crappy owner.

Then we laugh like demented old men.