We're a sad bunch here at the house of the double L. I lost my voice midway through Tuesday, so my boss sent me home where I promptly died of a chest cold. I did nothing but sleep (and whine to Shawn, if I'm being totally honest) until today. Having five consecutive days off was like having a mini holiday, but instead of drinking too much gin and falling asleep fully clothed, I drank copious amounts of lemon tea and never managed to fully make it out of my pyjamas. I feel so out of the loop. Forget writing on my own blog, I couldn't even manage to read any blogs. This morning I went on the facebook and found out that a friend (not a real life friend, one of those friends who adds you on facebook but you never speak to but you still stalk their wall) gave birth on Wednesday. Wednesday! I have a lot of catching up to do. My Google Reader yelled at me this morning. We're not friends right now.
Wolfgang would like to point out that a chest cold is nothing compared to having your fun bits removed.
Wolfgang went in on Wednesday morning to be neutered. I made Shawn pick me up before heading to the vet Wednesday night so I could be there when we brought him home. When the vet tech carried him out I couldn't help but laugh; he had his front paws clasped tightly around the back of his neck, looking kind of like he was doing that pose they teach you to do in elementary school if there's an earthquake (I want to say "stop, drop and roll" but that's if you're on fire. Is there a saying for the earthquake one?)
Wolfgang continued to break my heart all night, like when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and started growling because he didn't recognize himself. Or when he would accidentally bump into something with his cone and he would freeze (this was only sad for the first little bit - then it got hilarious. Like when we put him in his crate and his cone touched the wall and he froze and didn't move, at all, for fifteen minutes.) Then there was the meltdown I had when I realized that they had shaved his leg (most noticeable in the first photo) for his IV. The poor little monkey had a rough first night.
However. He soon was back to his normal, asshole, self.
The cone was Stella's so it was a bit big but the vet said it would be fine. The vet was wrong. Of course Wolfgang chose to chew his way to freedom on Good Friday, which meant that the vet and the pet stores and every conceivable place to get a dog cone was closed. So we pulled out the electrical tape and the duct tape and managed to find a solution.
Wolfgang was not pleased.
And because I am still feeling gross and I'm at work and I have no brain power, I will stop babbling now and leave you with a picture of my hair. It's not a great photo. The bangs are doing something weird (they are always doing something weird. People with bangs: how do you manage?? How do you make the bangs stay in place??) and my hair was sort of half-curly half- slept on. So. Here you go: