[Dailydrool] Being sick is such fun...

[Ruth Mayberry]

omg, what a story!

-only this can happen in a Basset household!
-sumbuddy needs to put this story in to the
next Basset book!

honest, Jessica, my heart goes out to you. 
Get well Drool too, poor baby!

Let the hubby clean the house again, I'm sure he'll
be understanding, (maybe)

ruth & huckleberry

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I had quite an episode yesterday and thought I would share with the folks who would probably laugh the hardest. I was out sick yesterday, again, with some crud that won't leave my head except to travel to my chest and back again.  I put all four of the dogs out back and left them there to play in the sun for a while and sat back on the sofa for what I planned to be just a few minutes.  I fell asleep.  I wake up, groggy from all the medicines I'm on, and I hear scratching and whimpering at the back door.  I can see the hounds from where I'm sitting.  Apparently, a cold front had blown in while I was napping, and brought with it an icy rainy sludge that turned my sunny backyard into a freezing cold mud pit, and in that mud pit stood four freezing cold, soaking wet, mud covered basset hounds. And they were pissed!  Not only did I feel like total and complete crapola, I was home alone in a house that DH proudly cleaned thoroughly the night before, and I knew I couldn't just let them in, they would have mud from the floor to the ceiling and back again!  So I picked them up, one 50 pound wet muddy hound at a time, which was no small feat in itself, hoisted each one into our kitchen sink, rinsed the mud off as best I could, dried off the excess water and then tossed each one into the pantry while I ran out to get the next hound still waiting in the freezing cold.  One of them slipped away and ran through the door directly to the sofa, still covered in mud and shaking in fear as I ran after him screaming "please NO!" and I accidentally smashed poor Sophie's paw under the door trying to keep the rest of them from getting through the door at once and when it was her turn to come in, she took an extra 5 minutes before she trusted me to keep the door open (I don't really blame her).  When I had gotten them all rinsed off, I was so out of breath I could barely stand up, I was coughing, and wheezing and plain exhausted.  I shoved the last hound into the pantry, tried to shut the door and go grab more towels and my soaking wet pajama pants got caught on the door and I tripped, and my pants fell down to my ankles!  Of course, the four soaking wet hounds ran right past me into the living room and simultaneously shook wet muddy dog all over the place.  All that work and they got the whole place wet anyway!!!  I just sat there on the floor, freezing, covered in mud and soaking wet with my pants around my feet and cried.  I hate being sick.  My dogs still aren't talking to me, especially Sophie. 

 Mixed in with the frozen muddy wet dog was basset slobber and drool slung from floor to ceiling, and all of it is being sent to the sick houndies out there and to their slaves, and to anyone who has lost a beloved furbaby.  I can't imagine losing one of my darling rotten babies, and my heart aches with yours. Get better soon, everyone!!!  Happy Holidays!!!
   Jessica L. Sutton

-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.dailydrool.org/pipermail/dailydrool-dailydrool.org/attachments/20081211/714f644f/attachment-0002.htm>