How Do You Live With A Dog On Steroids?

A tired woman brushes her itchy dog at night.

Last week Geordie had an appointment with the vet, and she gave him steroids to help with the full-body itchies he gets at this time of year.  I thought this would be a great thing – my boy would finally stop nagging me because he was miserable and didn’t know what to do about it.  Maybe we could both get some sleep!

And yet, no.  Instead we have substituted one misery for another.  The steroids have given Geordie an appetite beyond belief.  He spends all day squeaking at me to give him  biscuits.  He’ll take kibble or table food, but he wants biscuits.  Milk Bones, Liva’ Snaps, Marrow Bones…it doesn’t matter.  He’ll eat them all.  Literally.

An unexpected side effect from Geordie’s steroids is that Toby is gaining weight.  Why?  Is he getting into Geordie’s meds?  No, but every time I feed Geordie, I need to give Toby something to preserve equity in the house.  Even if I only give Toby one piece of kibble, Geordie eats so often that my little Toby has turned into a butterball.  Today I made him go for a long walk around the neighborhood until he flopped down on the pavement in surrender.  We’re going to need a lot of those before the weight comes off.

Fat dog thinks angry thoughts.

Whatchoo talking’ ’bout?  I’m not fat!

Pants on Fire

Was she lying? No, she was chasing me.

Fat women shouldn't run in corduroy.

Yes, this is an actual fear of mine.  With all of the “zrp! zrp! zpr!” and friction coming from these pants, I worry about inadvertently starting a natural disaster.  I am sure the best solution would be to walk more…but then I would still be dealing with the whole friction situation, wouldn’t I?  Nah, better to sit back and have another banana smoothie.  Anyway, it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.

I know my boys would love it if you laughed at their terrible misfortunes..