Oh Jesus, Corey and I are dying. What a gross start to the day.. It appears our beloved old man river, Link, ate a rotten duck egg yesterday because I woke up to the worst stench at 9:30 this morning. Within seconds that “no no no I don’t want to deal with this but I have to” anxiety kicked in and I staggered into the laundry and was greeted by a poo-tsunami and three animals pleading “LET US THE FUCK OUT OH MY GOD MUM WHAT THE FUCK CAME OUT OF LINKS ARSE?”
It was nooooot pretty. However once I deducted that it was Link ( most of the time if someone drops a plonker it’s Sophie or the cat and a game of “who dun it” but today it was easy- Sophie had her jocks on and the mess was a larger amount than the weight of her and Abby combined) I kinda perked up becaaaaaauuuuuuse I didn’t have to clean it uuuuuuu-uuuuuuup. Yay!! Its the only thing that ain’t my job when it comes to our animals. That dog is huge, he’s a mastiff / rottie / ridgeback / pitbull mix, weighs almost as much as me and takes shits worthy of a geological survey benchmarch.
“Oi Babe! Wake up it smells like popcorn!”
“Huh? You seriou- OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK?”
Took him half an hour to get it all cleaned up. Remember the Beavis and Butthead episode where Daria finds them in the puddle singing diarrhea-cha-cha-cha? The scale of it reminded us of that, for some reason, so we were laugh-drywretching as well.
The whole laundry got boiled water and hospital grade disinfectant. Twice.
Three and a half hours later, even with all the windows open, scented candles burning, the electronic air freshener on full blast and another wash of bleach WE STILL CAN’T GET RID OF THE SMELL. I think it’s melted into the paint on the walls. I KNOW it’s melted into my sinuses.
New addition to the cichlid tank today- an 8cm long pictus catfish, and one of the nicest specimens Corey or I have ever seen (we’ve seen a looooooot of fish). Given the right conditions he’ll grow to 20cm easily.
We also traded some guppies over for some new rummynose tetra at the fish shop, as well as found a new home for some of my uglier baby peacocks and jack dempseys (which is how I got the pictus, for freeeeee).
Less ugly fish in the tank means more room for prettier ones later on 🙂
The dogs and cat all think Corey and I are Father Christmas today, by the way. We came home from a day in the city with a split up cow femur for them to share. They aren’t quite sharing, per se… more like playing piggy in the middle while Abby sits there confused, drowning in Links drool. Note to self, don’t pat Abby until she’s had a bath.
Happy Tuesday everyone!
This is Link, Corey’s eight year old Rottweiler cross. He’s the perfect mix of guard dog and oversized lap dog and we love him to bits. Before we lived in our current abode we lived on a tree farm, and he would come kangaroo and rabbit and duck hunting with us.
In February last year he made the terrible decision to go for a swim in our dam. He didn’t come home. We searched high and low and only found him the next day. He looked so crook when we found him, and after a bath to get the mud off him we soon found his injuries. He had torn his side open internally after jumping into the dam and landing on a metal fence-post. Dam water, mud, algae and tadpoles came pouring out of the wound, and we quickly made the 50 kilometre drive to the vet hospital. He underwent two separate surgeries of 6 hours total and for a long time we were scared we’d lose him.
Turns out our boy’s a fighter though! He pulled through it well. He doesn’t hunt with us anymore. It hurts him to jump or run too much due to all the scar tissue on his insides. He’s gone from muscly to wobbly and cold days and nights hurt his bones. He shares his futon mattress with a kitten. He bails up the postie for pats.
But that doesn’t matter. We think he’s great.