Dogs

I was puttering around a message board and came across a post from this woman who had recently spent 2 grand on treatment for her two cats. She posted that she was having trouble getting one of the cats to take his anti-nausea pills (they MAKE those for cats?), and someone suggested that she get the suppository version...since the in hole ain't workin', try the out hole right? Well this reminded me of my Grandma and her dog Mikey. For those who have followed my blog for a while, this is Grandma of Hooters and Meet The Fuckers fame.

My Grandma used to have this dog, Mikey...I think it was some kind of terrier mutt, small, white, real mangy looking. Well Mikey was kinda high strung and prone to these fits where he'd flip the fuck out and run all over the house like a maniac, then he'd stop and twitch for a while with his tongue hanging out before passing out from sheer exhaustion. He was also one to pick fights with the neighborhood doberman, who literally shit bigger than Mikey...Grandma tells this story about the time the doberman really fucked Mikey up, and she had to stuff his eyeball back into the socket when he came home. This is a woman who to this day will stick her bare finger into a diaper to determine if shit is present, needless to say the old bat has a strong stomach.

Anyway, Mikey really hated thunderstorms, and would do his flip-the-fuck-out routine for the entire night and Grandma wouldn't get any sleep. Grams was a bit of a pill popper at the time...well, a lot of a pill popper truth be told, she was doing the Elvis Presley routine of uppers during the day and downers at night...so she decided to share the wealth with Mikey and started stuffing half quaaludes up his ass whenever it rained. After a few months of this, Mikey was noticeably calmer, but he drooled and twitched a lot more and started spontaneously pissing himself when you turned a light on. Really odd. I was probably only 6 years old when all this went on, but I remember thinking that maybe dogs shouldn't have pills up their poo-hole.

My dad, years later, named his youngest son Mikey. I don't think he named him after the pill popping dog, but I can't help but think of that weird little mutt every time I see my brother.


Now that I've conjured up this particular memory, I'm sitting here wishing I had some normal childhood stories...like apple picking or baking cookies or something. What the fuck?