I no longer have a gall bladder. I'm sure you're assuming, she had some gall stones. I will have to quickly announce that is not the case. My gallbladder did not have stones...it just decided it didn't quite feel like working any more. Maybe it figured that it had worked hard enough for 27 years, and it decided to pass on to heaven and settle there. I can't quite be sure. However, when the doctor went in to remove it last Thursday, it had started to turn black, which I am told is a very not good sign...
I have not had a funeral for my gallbladder. You might be asking yourself why I did not choose to bury it, since it has officially passed away. I think this would be a bit overkill. I had no ceremony kissing it goodbye. Sure, it was good to me for many years, however I am quite angry with it for causing me such emotional and physical turmoil. I guess you can safely say, that when we parted ways, we were not on good terms. I know, I know. You are deeply concerned that one day, five years from now, I am going to wake up and have a deep longing for my gallbladder and I will regret not formally saying my goodbyes. I guess I'm just going to have to take that chance. In my honest opinion it was an inconsiderate jerk for dropping dead on me, and I quite think it deserved to be permanently kicked out of this establishment I call my body. Yes, I believe in tough love. :)
Next on my list of complaints would be the big giant chocolate labrador that is my heart's love. I have always been an animal person, and my big brown teddy bear is my heart's mate. It was love at first sight when we met three years ago at the pound. We brought him home, and he has been glued to me ever since. We instantly bonded through the metal bars that were the pounds prison fences, and he is quite grateful to me for saving him from that horrible place. I do like to remind him, though, when he upsets me, that at any given moment I can send him back to prison. He accepts that I'm just talking nonsense, and I accept that he listens ever so gently, and gives me his sad puppy dog eyes that say, "NO! I love you! I'm sorry..." (I know you're seriously beginning to think, uh...yeah...it's REALLY time for you to get off the vicodin now. And to YOU, I say...you know you do this stuff with your pets too. Don't judge me.)
So anyway, back to topic. My lab is allergic to wheat. Deathly so. We discovered this after a year of back to back ear infections. So for this, my husband and I spend enormous amounts of money on gluten free dog food that is specially made and grown so that his allergies can tolerate it. And you know what this ungrateful dog decided to do tonight!? He ATE the Spaniel's non gazillion dollar dog food, that is FILLED with wheat! So now what do I get to enjoy? I get to enjoy a whiny, complaining, and extremely itchy labrador! He is sitting here sulking at me, because I'm not scratching his itches for him. I already gave him a sound talking to. He knows quite well that he's not allowed to eat wheat. And don't doubt me that he actually knows. He does not eat the food the children drop on the floor. He never eats anything with wheat. So you can say what you want, but he knows he's not supposed to eat wheat! He's a genius dog! I suppose today he decided to tempt fate and splurge. I can not quite be certain. Maybe he was feeling ignored so he decided to create an ear infection so that he'll get pampered. Maybe he hasn't had one in so long that he started missing the vet and figured this would be the only way to get over there to see her. Maybe after seeing me pop so many pills in order to say semi functioning the past four days, he felt we needed to bond on a medical front. All I know is that my chocolate tub of love is curled up on my bed, giving me the pouting sad face that says, "I hurt!". :( What am I going to do with this poor baby?
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