Yes, as a matter of fact, I have noticed that I talk about shit a lot.
I don’t have a fetish or anything, (and now I am horrified by the possible search terms that will lead people to this entry) but a large chunk of my mental and physical energy is taken up by these foster puppies, and crap features a lot in this matter.
So, as I last mentioned, there was magic powder and all the poo stopped.
This is kind of awesome, because at the height (the depth?) of the poofest, I was thinking that duct tape or a cork might be in order.
However, in reality, I understand that waste must exit the body as a part of general good health. Two of the puppies were not doing their #2 business, and this was worrisome, both for health reasons, and for assplosive possibilities when it finally happened.
So, after 24 hours of lack of puppy bowel movements, I contacted the vet AGAIN.
The vet gave me some advice, which I was already aware of in general, but wasn’t sure if it was okay on such young puppies. So, I followed that advice, and Webster began doing his doody, but Mindy was still a no go.
Which eventually led me to calling the vet again.
I’ve spoken with this poor vet every single day since the puppies arrived, and seen her most of those days. Yes, I do a lot of work for the rescue by caring for these puppies, but it is nothing compared to the time and energy she puts in. She is very busy, and yet I am talking to her damn near every day, mostly about SHIT.
So, I made her a bedtime story comic, because… Well, mostly because I am totally fucking delirious at this point.
Now, I’ll share it with you too.
And there you have it. I have lost my mind.
Time to go feed the puppies again, and hope for more puppy poop.