Two years ago I got my bunny neutered. (Not a euphemism.)
It was a very expensive and traumatic process.
Not as cross as this cat who realised his balls had been removed (and I’m not sure it’s “hilarious”) …
Frodo was not in a good place afterwards, despite me spending $110 on IV fluids to ease his recovery (they saw me coming).
My mini-foxie-maltese cross, Bilbo, was nil by mouth from midnight last night.
Poor Bilbo. He’s curled up in my lap as I type, clueless about the horrors ahead.
I’m not anticipating he’ll cope well post-op. This is a dog who is scared of certain sections of footpath and shakes with fear when I put his lead on to take him for a walk.
I am going to feel like such a meanie when I bring him home with that little plastic cone around his head.
I was kinda tempted not to get him done. He doesn’t hump anything and is incredibly placid. But the council and the vet have been sending me threatening letters so I succumbed to the pressure.
Speaking of sex organs … the triceratops sex act is going OFF on the blog again. There’s obviously been another airing of Blackish in the United States.
It’s kinda weird being Google’s equivalent of the world expert on the subject. (Google “triceratops sex position” and HouseGoesHome is very high up in the results.)
DD drily noted: “I guess that’s an achievement to be celebrated.”
But it does make me fondly reminiscent about our first date, when I naively decided dino porn was a fun topic of conversation with a complete stranger.
Fortunately I DIDN’T mention the triceratops thing at lunch with DD’s family on Sunday. I’ll save that for next time …
Song of the day: Britney Spears “Oooops I did it again”