I'll be up front. You don't want to read this.
I'll pause to give you a moment to walk away.
If you're still here, it's your fault.
So I posted this the other day.
Just a quick update on life. To be honest, an overshare. And, for those who know Cho Cho well, a wink and a nod at the most regretful dog adoption in history. But don't doubt us, we're in it for the long haul. Although, I'm never not eager for something to crop up that necessitates a merciful ending. I KID. Kind of. I'm not going to say that I was at all excited when I found a streak of blood leading to her snoozing on Sarah's pillow. I was actually worried my wife was going to have me euthanized. (She's been seeking options.)
Immediately I stripped the bed and hit the sheets with enough Spray n' Wash to trigger a Superfund site. This would have been my burden but Cho Cho's butt doesn't keep secrets. She bled elsewhere, like on every pillow we own. It's as if it were her daily chore; "When I get home you better have butt bled on everything that could potentially touch our face!" I'd yell before slamming the door and going off to work. And she did great. I got home and Sarah was operating a home-based dry cleaner with stacks of naked pillows next to a laundry room full of pillow cases.
With some research, and some unfortunate hands-on training, we've discovered that our dog has hemorrhoids. And it makes sense. She hates the cold so won't go outside and poop. So it backs up and, sweet ever-loving lord, creates a constant crop dusting that could eradicate paint. But constipation comes into play and--Jesus, has my life really cumulated into this blog?
Ok, so anyway, we're applying cold witch hazel via cotton balls and Cho Cho lies there somewhat scared and somewhat intrigued by our new lifestyle.
And this is where I finally get to the thing you shouldn't read (although that could have been any of the last five paragraphs. A trademark of my writing.) Before her final witch hazel treatement and bed, I take Paco and her out for their nighttime walk and scamper. Now normally I let them off leash, but Cho Cho will find a way to screw up anything. Last night she took off into a neighbor's yard, turning on their motion light and crashing into a cache of toys on their porch. I froze in the shadows, whisper shouting her name and wrestling as to whether or not I wanted the household to be a Make My Day family. I finally regained control of the beast and made a vow never to let her off leash.
And this is where I didn't want you to read. Right here.
So both the dogs are on leashes which means they're tugging and bumping into each other. On a few occasions Paco ran into the back of Cho Cho. She'd stopped and he had his head down and boop, he rear ended her. No big deal, right?
Until we got home and in the light.
I told you to stop.
Cho Cho is OK. She's been witch hazeled and is curled up on the beanbag. I would not be concerned about this animal. She's a survivor, unfortunately and, like any loving rescue, has certainly left her mark on all of us. Especially Paco.