Tuesday, April 19, 2016

April 19. Day 110. Going potty

I blame the drugs. Previously when I have been prescribed high doses of steroids, the most obvious side effect is 'roid rage. I want to kill people and when I say people I generally mean my nearest and dearest.  Not today. Today I was seeing things at least that's the only explanation for why first one and then the other fur friend decided that sitting in a pot would be an awesome thing to do. It has to be said the dogs are the only thing living that's been in that pot for a long while. My mother insists she chose the plant after consulting the plant nursery seeking a variety that "thrives on neglect". It seems you can get too much of a good thing because the amount of neglect I administered was clearly too great. I never claimed to be a gardener. I just like painting pots. Any way I was sitting on the back deck with the fur friends dosed on what I hope is bronchitis-curing steroids when Rumple jumped off my lap and into the pot. He quickly decided "nothing to see here" and jumped out. Winkle, never one to let an opportunity pass, then decided she'd have a go. Where Rumple saw only a dead stump, Winkle saw dirt to dig in, things to chew and a place to hide. She'd probably still be there now if the cleaners hadn't rung the door bell. At least that's what I think happened but it could be the drugs.

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