Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Foley's much interupted and long awaited blog: A pinch in the butt and slap in the face

From the desk of Foley Monster:

What a gyp! Veteran's Day was supposed to be a lap day when I got a great deal of snuggling and love. The morning began perfectly.

The alarm went off late, with the sun already in the sky. Neither Mommy or Daddy were anxious to get out of our warm bed. I positioned myself between the soft pillows and rolled over on my back. Both Mommy and Daddy gave me belly scratches as I snorted like Charlie Sheen on holiday.

Daddy finally got out of bed. He always gets out first. That's because Mommy is smart. Daddy has to leave a warm bed with two heat bearing Yorkies, while Mommy stays snuggled with us. Then Daddy takes us out to do some brisk business and Mommy vacates the bed, no longer occupied by two six pound loving heat pads.

While Mommy took a long, lazy shower Daddy put his laptop on the couch and sat on the floor. This makes it easy for him the throw the ball so it passes in front of the TV and on the side of the central fire place and into the dining room where Pocket can chase it down. It is also the perfect spot for me to sit between him and the couch, and get plenty of good scratches, especially at the top of the breast bone, which I love.

Daddy showered, we all enjoyed a nice breakfast. I was a little surprised when we were sent up to the bedroom because Mommy and Daddy were going Christmas shopping and there was a good chance they would be bringing home things that said Foley.

I napped. They returned. I snuggled with Mommy. Then the best thing happened. They took Pocket upstairs and left me downstairs. That means I was going somewhere just the three of us and no Miss Pees A Lot.

I got in the car. I got to sit in the front seat in Mommy's lap. Perfection. We pulled into a nice driveway. I got out and walked on my leash right into.....the vet's office.

Ah man! I felt like such a crap puppy. I sat on Mommy's lap. The I got the pants. No, not the kind Pocket wears. I got the pant pant pant pant pants. As you know, we pant when we sweat, and I am so cute when I pant I am listed number two on the list of celebrities who are most downloaded when over heated behind Beyonce.

I met some other dogs, luckily they were tiny. There was a Maltese and a Morkie, so I finally learned what my baby with Lily would look like. (Damn good, damn good.)

I got called into the room and my Mom told me I would only be getting a little shot. I didn't like it, but I could handle it. They weighed me, and while I'm no Pocket, my weight is holding steady. Then the doctor came in, and gave me just my rabies shot. It hurt a bit. But I'm a brave pup.

Then somebody took the muzzle off of Daddy. Let me be clear. His only role in this was Mommy's driver. No one told him to speak. But he did. "She's still have some trouble with her teeth," he said.

Whose teeth? Mommy's? The tech? Next thing I know the vet's got his big, stinky fingers in my fragile mouth and was scraping my back canine (OUCH.) Mommy told him I was using Plaque Off. The vet said it helped, but I still needed to have the canine out, and a thorough cleaning.

And I would have to get a sleepy time shot. I just stared at Daddy. How dare he? Judas. Just a few days before he went to the dentist and was told he should keep doing what he's doing because his teeth were great.

Do you want to know what his secret is? He flosses, her brushes his teeth, then he has two Yorkies who climb on top of him and lick his teeth because we like the taste of the toothpaste, but also I think we are making his teeth super clean? And what does he do for me? He narcs me out.

Oh, and I have a cyst too. It needs to be squeezed to remove the puss. But the doctor said I was too wiggly to do it while I was conscious. I wasn't wiggly. I was trying to get away from Mommy so I could gum Daddy to death.

I have my yearly check up in January and after that they are going to schedule my sentence for having a Daddy with a big mouth. The good news is that Mommy isn't worried at all about it. For almost a whole day.

So after this rant, we won't he speaking of it until it comes up in the winter. But I do ask you to do me one favor.

When you see my Daddy shun him. Shun! Shun! Shun!

Yours in toothlessness
Foley Monstet
Publish Post

2 comments:

  1. We'll shun. You rebel. Surely you can find your inner Yorkie-emo.
    It's too bad our pets can't come with us on our person-vet visits. They'd understand that some of ours beat a thermometer up the clacker.

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  2. Count me in, dear Foley M. Count me in.
    As a fellow yorkie, I will rally the troops & united we will conquer.
    Regarding the dental issue, never fret. Mr. Phoo, the venerable founder of the Gangs of New Yorkie always said: "teeth are overrated anyway. I will fight with my bare paws. Lemme at it".

    Your unconditional fan,
    Steve the yorkie
    CBO - Gangs of New Yorkie

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