Thursday, August 11, 2005

 

Overheard in the ER household X

By The Erudite Redneck

This one will take some setting up.

Y'all know my right hind leg has been hurtin' all week. Been soakin' it some in a ... well, a foot soaker from Walgreen's. Just a little soap and warm water a few times yesterday and the day before. The tub is right there by my recliner, which is next to the NASCAR tire in the front room.

I'm back at work today. Headin' to my regular doc's tomorrow. I've concluded that it was a brown recluse that got me. My hoof is all red, and ain't gettin' any unredder, and where the critter bit me, necrosis has set in -- which basically mean "toe rot."

The antibiotics, I guess, are keepin' it from gettin' any worse, but they're apparently not strong enough to actually beat back the infection, hence the trip to the doc's tomorrow.

So, there's you some background.

This morning, Dr. ER was still in bed, I had limped into our bedroom from the front room couch, where I've been sackin' out to keep my hoof elevated, and Bird had let the hounds, Riker, the handsome, regal, well-trained and sophisticated Pembroke Welsh corgi, and Bailey, the po' white trash supposedly registered but dummer'n-a'stump weinie dog, in the house to get 'em ready to go to the vet's for annual shots.

The critters were plumb thrilled to be in the house, especially with all their peeps, at such an unusual time. The whole famn damily was in the bedroom: Dr. ER still in bed, me sittin' on the edge of it, very carefully puttin' on a sock, Bird standin' there, fixin' to put the leashes on the dogs, which are both hoppin' and jumpin' and waggin' and smilin' and carryin' on, trying to jump up on the bed and all.

Riker knows better, but he's 10 now and we let him slide when he forgets his manners and upbringing. Bailey has no couth whatsoever. I swear, it's like havin' a canine Jethro Bodine sittin' at the supper table, thinkin' he's in somebody else's billy-ard room, a-wonderin' where our pot-passers are.

Amid the commotion, we suddenly realize that Bailey has vacated the immediate environs, and is somewhere else in the house without adult human supervision, which is always, always a bad thing. He is a tard. I've been meanin' to build him his very own short yellow doghouse, if you know what I mean and I know you do.

Me: "Where's Bailey? I bet he's in there drinkin' my foot water!"

Dr. ER, who has an aversion to ALL things podiatractic, GASPS and WHEEZES, trying to balance her desire to LAUGH with her compulsion to HURL.

Me: "Bird! Get in there and watch him! If his breath smells like white tea and ginger, AND FEET, that's what he's in to!"

See, the only soft soap in the house when I needed some for hoof-soakin' purposes was some sissified, fancy-ass girly squeeze-pump thing. I used up a whole dang bunch of redneck points by soakin' my poor foot in the stuff.

Poor Bailey, who is as redneck a dog as you will ever meet, did too! He'll probably come prancin' up to the back door at suppertime tonight wantin' to see a menu, wonderin' what the appetizer special is and orderin' a dadgum bottle of Pellegrino!

END

Comments:
*gasp* *wheeze* *laugh* ... short yellow doghouse! *rofl*

I know exactly what you're talking about. I dog-sat a weenie hound Saturday night and I think it's just part of the breed. My step-hound seemed to think it was really cool to sit under the chairs and stare out at me. She knew I could see her, but she was acting invisible.
 
ER, LMFAO!!!! "short yellow doghouse" indeed. :-)
 
I'd something like that's why I'm feline-likin' gal, but cats have been known to be just as stupid at times.

Hope your foot get all better!
 
I'd SAY something like...

(Geez--you'd think I'd know to proofread better than that!)
 
All the things I've missed in the month
 
ER: you got HIND legs?? Hmmm. Watcherself. West Nile be the next thing happen atcha.
 
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