After a wonderful night of watching 'My Man Godfrey' ...
We got ready for Family Bible Reading. Unfortunately we were WAY behind, and I fell asleep at some point. When I woke up everyone was getting ready for bed. I felt kinda bad, but apparently everyone else had nodded off, too. Plus Vicodin makes me kinda sleepy.
Anyway, we were all getting ready for bed. My sister went up to our room, and I was going to sleep in Dad's recliner again because I woke up miserable when I slept in my own bed. My brother was going to sleep on the couch to keep me company.
Everything was going according to plan, until my dog told us that he needed to go out. We all knew it was a lie, because he'd just been out, so we told him to his face that he needed to stop lying. Instead he went to Dad, because he knows that Dad will give in.
He was right. Dad took him out. And he didn't have to go. He had to protect.
Outside stood the Hound of the Baskerville's and Friend (two evil dogs that prowl our road at night).
I had just drifted off to sleep when I heard high-pitched yipping and Dad yelling at some dog to "get out of here".
'Oh some pomeranian is attacking Bandit. How funny.'
Then the door opened and as streak of yipping white fur charged up the steps. After chasing him out from under all of our furniture, Dad gave him a look-over to see if he'd been bit.
He had.
On the bottom.
Poor mutt.
So Mom and Dad fixed him up as best they could and we went to bed very late at night.
The next morning we woke up too early and went to church. I didn't feel very good, but by the time Sunday School started the Vicodin had kicked in and I was pain-free.
It stopped working just as it was time to go upstairs, so my entire church service was pretty miserable.
Then Dad had a meeting, and I fell asleep in the van - which meant I woke up disoriented and in pain. But when we got home I was able to crash. Bandit was doing better and I just laid in Dad's recliner on mouth-rest. That night I tried sleeping in my bed again and I didn't wake up feeling miserable.
Yesterday I felt better than I had through this entire trial - not wonderful, mind you, but much better. I was even able to eat the same meal that the rest of the family was eating. I gave Bandit a little bit of Tylenol because he seemed like he was in a lot of pain, and he perked up a lot. We watched Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back that night, and I was able to sleep in my own bed without fear. I slept very well, too. In case you were wondering.
Today I've felt almost perfect. I was able to clean up my room (not a small task) and as you can see I am finally filling you in on the past three days. Bandit seems almost normal, too. I feel bad for him, but now he's barking and having more fun and stuff. So anyway, the end is in sight and I'm VERY glad. Tomorrow I'm getting my stitches taken out, so I'm just a teensy-weensy bit nervous about that, but besides that I'm very happy. I'll be able to eat almost everything on Thanksgiving!!!
Thanks for checking up on me!
Bye
2 comments:
I feel horrible about pulling your leg! Oh! There I go again, pulling your leg. I'm so bad! I am happy to hear, however, that you and Bandit are both mending nicely. Having stitches taken out won't be a big ordeal, you'll do fine. Bandit reminds me of a dog I had when I was a kid. He was a big dog in a little dogs body. They're a lot of fun. I'll check your blog soon. You and your family have a very Happy Thanksgiving, and I'll talk to you soon. Hopefully I'll see you soon.
You're VERY bad. I'd ban you from commenting on my blog, but I need all of the comments I can get.
Bandit's got the mouth of a big dog (only more high-pitched), but he's got short-dog syndrome and thinks that the whole world's against him. I posted a picture, but you probably already saw that.
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