So I've been trying really hard to refrain from posting multiple times in one day (because, frankly, I don't want you guys to get tired of me). I had a lot of free time (free time = bored = creativity) this weekend...so I have 7 posts already written and ready to publish. My sister had this to say:
@Nurse_Morgan: @wfayew you have an appointment book for your blog?? #ocd
To that, I say...at least I write, missy. You haven't written in your blog in over a month.
Anyway, I got a little off track there. My point: I apologize for 2 posts in one day, but just know that it could have been worse.
Okay, so. My family has a black lab named Toby. We've literally had him since he was born. We took in his mom (named her Pepper), and then she got knocked up and had a bunch of puppies under our store. We helped Pepper take care of them until they were old enough to be given away. Yes, we gave them away. 11 of them. All but one...all but Toby. He has been in our family ever since. Oh, let me add...that was almost 17 years ago. 17 people years.
That photo was taken about six years ago...when he was 11. He was already greying then! He's pretty much a grey lab now. But guys, he's the prettiest grey lab you'll ever lay eyes on. And the best dog...ever.
Lately, my mom has been concerned with his health. [Side note: At what age do you become comfortable in talking about bowel movements? Because I'm definitely not there yet, but my mother sure is. I love Toby, but I don't want to hear about his poo, I'm sorry.] She has asked my sister and me to research pet crematories. [Side note: Who thinks to get into that business?] Let me just tell you...these folks are expensive! Or maybe I'm just frugal, but I don't want to pay $400 for you to dispose of my pet's body and give me ashes in a cup.
Here is a text message exchange between my mother and me.
*Warning: If you didn't already know, I'm rather insensitive.
Mother: What did you find out?
Me: It's about $400, I don't know all the details.
Mother: Can you girls put in 100 each?
Me: I mean, maybe. Why not just bury him? Ashes are ashes.
Me: I'll see what I can do, but I think it's too expensive.
Mother: I wouldn't dig a hole and put you in it.
Well, that's good to know, Mom.
I guess I should be relieved that she doesn't want to get him stuffed.
But enough with the disposal; back to Toby. I think he'll make it to his 17th birthday. He's been shot, hit by a car, shot some more, hit by a truck, he's run away, he's run home when we've taken him somewhere to stay while we went out of town (Homeward Bound style). He's a trooper. (Obviously! He's less than 2 months away from turning 17.)
I don't want to think about losing Toby. He's been in our family well over half my life so, for now, I will just assume that he is invincible and will live forever!