99 Bottles of Beer

The Plan: Quickly rinse and throw some dishes in the sink to soak in lovely, piping hot water and apple-scented Dawn. Wipe down counter. Sweep floor in preparation for mopping.

The Execution: Quickly rinse dishes, discovering that, for some reason, the garbage smells like rancid tuna and tin. WE JUST ATE THE TUNA A FEW HOURS AGO. WTF. Grumble to self about this issue while attempting to wrestle pile of dishes into the sink. Task  finally completed, proceed to clear floor of objects that impede sweeping. Pick up partially empty six-pack of Labatt Blue, used for a delicious sausage and potato recipe and whenever I feel like cooking something in beer. Balance precariously on crossbeam of table, for some reason.

BEER SMASH

Luckily, just one bottle broke. Casualties included about half a roll of paper towels, the cardboard carrier for the beer, the box for a case of root beer that was nearby, and my sanity. You see, this was not the first mishap of the day.

Earlier, just before my fiancé left for work, he was engaged in a particularly spirited tug o’ war with our dog. They were using her favorite toy, a Woot Monkey. It was all fun and games until one of those “slingshot-like rubber arms” snapped back and hit Coco in the eye.

Initially frightened, she quickly made a full emotional recovery as only animals can. Her humans were a little more frightened; I tested the affected eye with a flashlight to find the pupil properly responsive, though she wouldn’t keep it open all the way. As the evening progressed, Mike called regularly to check on Coco’s status. I Googled, and we debated the need for a trip to the emergency vet (and the possibility of affording it).

Meanwhile, Coco snoozed peacefully, completely unaware that she was the center of so much anxiety. After about an hour, I woke her up to check on her eye.

She looked up, blinked, and both eyes came blissfully open as if nothing had happened. I examined further; all swelling was gone, and aside from some goop in the corner and a slight bloodshot tint, the eyes were identical. A few hours later, the goop was expelled and the eye itself looked much clearer.

There was much rejoicing.

The quick recovery alleviated my fears as only a quick recovery can. I sought solace from pet owners on the internet, but that didn’t go too well. As it turns out, lots of people on the internet will make you feel like you are a Bad Person for not taking your pet to the emergency hospital for something that is, quite clearly, not an emergency. The conversations usually go like this:

“My dog got hit in the eye. She seems okay, but it’s a little swollen. Can this wait until Monday?”

“NO YOUR DOG CAN GO BLIND”

“I really can’t take her to the emergency vet tonight. I don’t have money or a car. I know eye injuries can be serious, but she seems to be recovering just fine.”

“DO YOU WANT YOUR DOG TO GO BLIND? WE CANNOT DIAGNOSE HER OVER THE INTERNET, WE ARE NOT VETS.”

“Look, trying to make me panic isn’t going to change the fact that I CANNOT TAKE HER TO THE VET RIGHT NOW. Can someone just tell me if this is likely to be a serious problem, given the detailed information I have provided?”

“RARRR BAD PET OWNER RARRRR”

Oh, there is a possibility that she could go blind from being hit in the eye with some fabric? That changes EVERYTHING, I’ll just walk the five miles to the emergency vet and pull the $94 exam fee out of my ass!

Sometimes I hate the internet.

Anyway, all is well now. Except the trash smells like rancid tuna, tin, AND cheap beer.