Fricking Abe with his Fricking bum knee and his damned surgeries.

That's right. Surgeries. Three of them. The last one was last Thursday. Because he's a hyper skidzoid maniac jumper dog. And no matter how many times you say "Abe, I know you just want to run around the yard and lick your big ugly wound and chew off the bandage and leap in the Suburban and stand with your front legs on the window -- making me very nervous that you are going to accidentally out the window, land on your head and be run over by one of the hundreds of Hummers in our neighborhood -- and then leap back out of it, launch yourself at Mojo and try unsuccessfully to wrestle him to the ground, and leap into the air and spin around when I pick up car keys, touch my purse, put on shoes, breathe too deeply so that I am fully and completely aware that yes, you do in fact want to go for a ride..."

He just doesn't understand. He pretty much understands "puppy treat", "hungry", "uh uh" (well, I am just delusional there. That's my version of the Dog Whisperer's "zzzzt" sound, and Abe reacts to it the way the Pope responds to Playboy -- not at all. I know I am going to hell. Thank you for your concern.) and "Abe".

So he doesn't understand why he is locked in the cage for hours on end, even though I am home. He doesn't understand why we are always holding on to the leash he is always wearing.

He really doesn't understand being walked in his own back yard. We have had Moj for two years and Abe for one, and they have NEVER pooped while we are walking them. NEVER. We walk Mojo a lot. And he has NEVER pooped on a walk. He hustles out to the backyard sometimes right after to poop, but not while on a walk. And I guess he taught it to Abe, because he does the same thing.

So it freaks the hell outta Abe when I am walking him around the backyard so he can poop. He finally did, today, Tuesday. His surgery was last Thursday. So that's a long time for a dog to not poop. Mostly when I am walking him around the backyard he just looks at me, all "WTF? I can poop for myself," and then makes a beeline for the back door, because I am weirding him out in the backyard.

On the other hand, Mojo has finally started to respond to the Valley Fever medications and has a very low titer. It dropped from 1 to 16 down to 1 to 4. Which is almost low enough to start reducing his medications. Woot!

But both dogs -- Abe because of his frickin' knee, and Moj because of his bum hip -- have to have glucosamine and chondrotin every single day of their lives. They will not be tricked. Wrap it in sausage, stuff it in cheese, cover it with peanut butter, roll it in braunsweiger, they will eat the food and spit out the pill. Every time. The only way I can get them to just eat the damn things is to pour bacon grease on them. Unfortunately bacon, though very very tasty, is very very bad for you, so we rarely have it.

I have become that which I mocked...the deluded sops who spend thousands of dollars on vet bills. The softhearted softheaded fools who keep dogs that require daily medicines. Even worse, I have spent a couple hundred dollars on vet bills for the guinea pigs. Good thing they are slavishly devoted to me, and not generally considered "meat".