You know how sometimes, your 80-pound labradoodle gets a hotspot on his hip? And then he chews the shit out of it? And it ends up being an open, oozing sore about the size of a big ol' chicken breast?
And you know how sometimes your husband is working 24/7, and you've been out of town, and you come home to Massive Side Wound Doodle, and you dope him up on Benadryl and only by the grace of God to you manage to clean the wound without barfing? And then you put a cone on the dog in the hopes that he won't chew his hip off in the night?
But you know how sometimes dogs freak the eff out about cones? And refuse to sleep? And keep you and your exhausted husband up all night, until you have a brilliant epiphany at 4 a.m. and trade the cone for one of your husband's t-shirts, which you don your labradoodle in backwards, with hind legs through the armholes and tail through the neck, and you tie a knot to keep the shirt around his waist, and then he falls asleep without gnawing him some oozing sore deliciousness?
You know how sometimes you take a day off of work to give your oozing-open-wound-having, 80-pound dog a bath, and he manages to get you and your entire house wet, even though he's actually the only good dog you have? And then you get ready to take him to the vet, but then you step in a gallon of pee, because one of your other dogs is pissed that Massive Side Wound Doodle is getting all the attention, but you only realize this discontent when you step in urine in your sock feet? But you manage to get your skanky, sweatpants-wearing self to the vet, mostly urine-free but smelling of wet dog? And the vet says that usually, they have to sedate dogs and shave around their severe hotspots, but you have done such a superior job of carefully cutting the hair around the hotspot that such tomfoolery is unnecessary, and you decide in your sleep-deprived stupor to change your potential pageant talent from eavesdropping to trimming hair around massive oozing sores?
Yeah. That's been my day.