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Fuzz and…um…stuff

April 16, 2012

I had a salad for dinner.  It was a large one, but it was still a salad and you know what that means:  I’m hungry again.  I want to eat something.  Anything.  Everything.

The hamster wheel has continued to roll and squeak.  Just to keep things interesting, Jake the jerk-faced dog caught the diarrheas and so I have been scrubbing at the carpets because, of course, no dog wants to have the diarrheas on a hard floor.  That would be uncomfortable and potentially dangerously slippery.  It is hard to be very upset with 12 pounds of pitiful, though.  Not that it makes the clean-up job any more pleasant.

This evening I talked Agent Dorkbutt into letting me brush him.  At first he said no way, and then when I pointed out that it’s really the same as petting, except I’ll do it longer, he relented and permitted me to use the rubber brush on him for a while.  Every swipe pulled off a ton of fuzz.  He now looks all sleek and shiny because of the huge amount of dull, dead fur I pulled off him.  More shiny than sleek, though, because he is roughly the size of a twenty pound sack of potatoes, and has the shape, activity level, and intellect of the same.  But if he’d let me actually finish the job, I bet I could have had him down to a fifteen pound-er.

That’s still bigger than the dog.  Pre-diarrheas, of course.

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