Insert Witty Title Here

Poor Dog. He developed a hot spot last week. It's this thing where his skin turns gray and oozy and he chews like mad at it until we drag out the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation. I admit to laughing hysterically at the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation. He walks into walls, he gets caught on chairs, and if you throw a treat just right he will spend an hour trying to get it from inside the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation. We are cruel people. Yes, I know that it is not nice to laugh at Poor Dog as he swings his head from side to side trying to shake loose the treat that is lodged at the back of the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation. Yet we do it anyway.
That one hot spot became 3 hot spots. We applied some ointment. (We meaning Mr X because Ew! I am NOT touching THAT!!)
Mr X went to work the following morning and at hurricane's naptime, I went to do laundry. And then I smelled IT.
A way to describe IT?
Rotting flesh?
A skunk?
My MIL's house?
No. Not strong enough.
Rotting flesh sprayed by a skunk found sitting in my MIL's kitchen.
Yup. That would about sum it up.
I could not figure out where the unholy hell IT was coming from. I shoved a handful of dryer sheets under my nose and walked into the living room where the smell seemed to be the strongest.
I thought I would find some poor dead animal Cat had 'played' with.
But no. IT turned out to be Poor Dog.
Internet? Nothing is more pathetic than a horrid smelling dog in the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation.
My sister-in-law came to our rescue. She is a Vet assistant and works at an animal hospital.
Sadly, she could not help us until the next day.
So being the cruel and heartless humans we are, Poor Dog and the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation slept downstairs on a sheet that will now have to be burned (where do you go to burn toxic substances?) and Mr X was given explicit instructions to open all windows to said room before leaving. (Nevermind that it's below freezing! Poor Dog was in that room all damn night with the door closed and I will die, DIE!, if I have to go in there and smell that again whereas you have this iron-cast stomach and nothing bothers you Mr X!)
When Mr X brought Poor Dog and the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation home the next day, I could not stop laughing. Further proof that I have no soul.
Poor Dog's ass was shaved. As in completely bare. Stub of a tail and all.
He had another shaved spot about 5 inches further up on his back but he still looked more red-assed baboon than dog. It was then that I saw that Poor Dog actually had 5 hot spots. No wonder he was miserable!
He now must take 2 antibiotics twice a day (yay for peanut butter!) and have this ointment rubbed in twice a day which? ouch. I feel so bad for Poor Dog. He whimpers and ducks every time he's touched.
He also has to take a steroid every day. Good thing he's neutered. I don't think his ego could take the testicle shrinkage! The really great thing about the steroid? It makes him pee uncontrollably. And it makes him pee green.
He peed when Mr X picked him up. He peed when he got home. He peed 5 minutes later when I filled his water bowl.
Today when Hurricane took his nap I came down to do laundry (it's the only time I really have to do it). I saw Cat sleeping in a chair that he is not supposed to be in and went to move it.
And I stepped in the Lake Erie of pee. And? Ew.
I glared at Cat for a moment before I realized that even he, in his vindictive and spiteful state, could not possibly have peed that much.
Damn steroids.
I thought it was cool when we potty trained Cat. For awhile, he would only pee in the toilet. I have it on tape. Stop laughing. You can't really be surprised that we would be the type of people to tape our cat peeing.
Today I realized something cooler. Of all the places Poor Dog could have peed, of all the prime new carpet spots? He chose the one covered by the plastic things we use under the computer chairs. And those rare times he poops in the house? He won't do it on carpet. He goes to the tile. And that can't be terribly comfortable.
I think that means I have to stop throwing treats into the Dreaded Cone of Humiliation. Because any dog willing to go out of the way to protect my carpet should not be mercilessly teased.
Looks like I'll just have to content with annoying Cat.