AT HOME MONDAY: There's never a dull moment. . .

. . .when you have a dog in the house.  Multiply that times three for us, and really, three is nothing when, not too long ago, we had seven dogs and two litters of puppies in the house at one time!  Not just dogs, mind you.  These are Boston terriers, the smartest canines in the world.  Don't bother to argue with me, because I will never change my opinion on this, okay?

We bought our first Boston terrier puppy when the kids were small and we realized that no child should grow up without a dog.  I believe Matt was 8 and Natalie was 3.  The kids were thrilled and Mack became a wonderful companion for Matthew.  However, just one dog would not be enough.  No.  

Trips to Dog Alley at First Monday Trade Days in Canton convinced my honey that we should go into the dog breeding business.  One breeder told us that he had paid all his debts, including a home and travel trailer, from his earnings in breeding.  Jimmy was convinced that we needed to start our own dog breeding business.  I went along since it meant lots of cute puppies.  We bought Mack a wife, a little female puppy we named Mindy.

Fast forward a few years, through their litter of puppies (their ONLY one) which produced Whitey, Whitey's wife Molly, Maggie, Maggie's husband, Murphy, and their daughters Feisty and Swirl, and lots of other little puppies who found new homes.  With vet bills for mommies who miscarried, stillborn pups, vaccinations, puppy ads, and other expenses, we NEVER came out ahead, and our home suffered.  Look forward to tales of home damage in future posts. . .

After so many years and no children at home, we are left with three babies:  Whitey, who is now almost 11 years old, Molly, 8, and Maggie, 6.  But poor Whitey is feeling his age.  

Every spring and summer, he suffers from skin allergies, an ailment which usually forces us to resort to steroids from the vet.  After feeding him doses of Benadryl with no improvement I finally took him to the vet's office today.  He has also been limping a bit, but it has gotten worse over the last couple of days.  Last night he had trouble standing to eat his dinner, and he could barely get to his favorite resting place on the sofa.  

Natalie came over this morning to help me get him to the doctor. To my surprise and dismay, Dr. B. found fleas on my poor baby!  I was SO humiliated!  I mean, we pride ourselves on being wonderful pet owners.  We allow them complete run of the house, we have a fenced in yard with a doggie door, and we keep them on a strict feeding and medication schedule.  We also check them often for fleas, and had not seen anything!  Dr. B. glances at his poor skin and sees three!  Of course, she IS trained. . .Needless to say, we forked out almost $200 for flea treatment for everydog, as well as some cortisone for Whitey's poor achy joints. 

To top it off, my daughter notices--while we are waiting in the examination room with the dog--that I have put my blouse on wrong side out!  What with Whitey having a thermometer shoved up his most personal orifice, Natalie realizing her parents have been fussing at her pets for scratching when they have BUGS on their skin, and her mother not being able to properly dress herself anymore. . .well, it was a HUMILIATING day for all. . .

Poor Bawhitey-bewie. . .


Ap ril  xoxo
stay tuned. . .




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