Sir had a rough time for the last two weeks. He pooped some blood, then some more blood, then had some diarrhea (a difficult to spell version of mudbutt), got tired, and slept a bunch. So we took him to the vet and they weren't sure, but we got a cocktail of medicines for him. One of em looked and smelled like peanut butter but said "Chicken Flavor" on it. Why does it matter that it's "chicken" flavor? If I were (still) an advisor for a major pet pharmaceutical company, I'd say cut the bullshit and just write "flavored" because who cares, your dog will probably eat it if Sir does. Sir is as picky as they get. And he's gotten better! Besides the gross tasting liquid that I squirted under his tongue, he took it all quite well. That liquid was called metacam, helps with dog pain, and stops readers from thinking about how awful what I just said sounds.
Well. That's that. He's also been weight lifting recently..... in his SLEEP!
He was slowly and rhythmatically pushing the comforter up with his front paws. Sir weighs about four pounds which is around 1.81436948 kg, give or take 0.00000594. So if he's lifting 8 oz. of deadweight, then he's lifting 1/8 of his bodyweight, which would be like me lifting a whole 20 pounds! Okay, so it's not that impressive. He's a small dog, not an ant. And he's way more fun to cuddle with than ants, too.
I mean, just look at this little guy. How can you stare into those questionably proportioned eyes and not melt?
There is a treat on top of the camera.
It's also been getting chilly here at night and sometimes during the day, so Sir has accordingly decided to grow to triple human size and wear one of my favorite sweatervests.
"'I'm going to pee on EVERYTHING!!!"
He's started eating more since then, too. Okay, enough bad jokes and pictures of dogs. Actually, here's one more bad joke in the form of a picture of a dog. A dog named Sir.
"The drug's dangerous," she said, "but it gives insight."
