One - Baller.

'Tis with a heavy heart I write this.

I took Kelso to the vet, for his annual shot, a couple of days back. The lady was feeling his tummy and further down 'south', when suddenly she looks at me and says:
"Oh he needs to be castrated!"

I'm like ............


I'm sure all of you know how much I love my dog, and how I think of him as a child.
My little baby boy has only one testicle.
Yes, only one.
The other didn't er..'drop'.

Stop laughing. I demand that you stop laughing RIGHT now.


At the back of my mind, the spirits of my Indian, female ancestors were mourning and thumping their bosoms and wailing about the tragedy that had befallen their little prince. Some even cried about how he must have sinned in his previous life. But I told them to be quiet. Yes, the voices in my head are very much under control, thank you.

Castrated?! Jeez..what a way to break the bad news.
Cow.

You know..I can't help feeling that maybe I did something wrong..that maybe it was somehow my fault.
Maybe I hugged him too hard..
Maybe something got damaged when I dropped him...
Maybe its the food I'm giving him..
Maybe he has to pay for the sins of my past...

Ok, ok i have to stop...as you can see, I'm rather distraught by this whole affair..
Please pray that Kelso's surgery (when I do make an appointment for one, later on) goes smoothly.

I love him..and I hope you do too, regardless.
My brother now affectionately calls him 'One-Baller'.
He is loved..even more so, now.

(If any of you have thought unkind thoughts about my dog, whilst reading this entry, I hope a ball of yours drops off. For the Ladies, may something else drop off.)

***

Ok, so I got a lot of comments (ok ok FINE about 3) in my previous post, about how I should have a party at my place, now that it's parents-free.
So I decided to be a sport, and volunteer my place for a small dinner.

Bad Idea.

In 2 hours, I had chicken curry on the floor, Coke on the floor, glasses on the floor, paper and tissue on the floor (dont even ask me HOW it got on the floor), dog trying to pick up all this shit from the floor...the place was in a bit of a mess. And things weren't helped by the fact that I was having a bad hair day (That seems to be happening a lot these days.)

Do you NEED ANY MORE CONVINCING AS TO WHY I HATE HAVING PARTIES AT HOME?!!?!?!?!?!

Now don't.you.ever.DARE.ask.me.to.host.ANYTHING.at.my.place.

(Unless it's a surprise party for me, in which case I won't have to clean up afterwards.)


Thank you.