My friend Miriam had to put her dog Harpo to sleep last Saturday. We were both making inappropriate jokes beforehand - I was saying that it would be best if Harpo wore a party hat during the event, and Miriam was talking to Harpo in that voice people use for pets and babies, "Time for us to kill you!" Two friends of ours that came along were appalled.

But once it came time for the actual injection, it hit all of us hard... she was such a friendly, cheerful and enthusiastic dog.

But it was supposed to lower morale Steph, not boost it.

Well, I think all the men I wasn't macking on were really dejected, thus lowering THEIR morale....

Okay, I got nothing.

I need someone to come kick my ass to make me do my work.

Or maybe suggest other more interesting things to do.

Or maybe suggest other more interesting things to do.

Paint each toenail a different color.

I need someone to come kick my ass to make me do my work.

I'll be happy to kick your ass, but I fear it won't help you work any.

Did you call the chiro?

Or maybe suggest other more interesting things to do.

Take a nap?

Paint each toenail a different color.

That would be fun, but I would need 9 more colors of polish than I have right now.

Make ita and Kat come over to your place. Each has to bring 5 different nail polish colors. Instant Hootenanny!

Take a nap?

Did that already. Long one too.

Did you call the chiro?

Which may be why I didn't do that. I will.

See, I have that inappropriate humor response and I was gonna ask if she wanted Kuma. Cause you know, I'm ready to give his little curly-tailed-ass away.

Heh. I DO think they should get another dog because mom likes the walking companion (and I feel she's better to have one and otherwise she won't and she needs to,) but...not going to broach that yet.

But once it came time for the actual injection, it hit all of us hard

Ayup. My bad humor pops up at random to save me, where hers goes into remission until she's feeling better. Just last night mom was mocking herself for the fact she was making special meals for Goobs, complaining about the hassles of cleaning puke out of the rug, how she hadn't not slept through the night since my brother was a teenager and how as soon as Goober was gone, it was New Carpets All The Time.

Today, she spent the day avoiding crying by steam cleaning the whole damned house, washing Goober's bedding, running the leftover food to the shelter and crying her eyes out in between.

The cats aren't a damned bit of help, as these guys are rather heartless when it came to Goobs. I'm betting a couple of them will start acting funky after a few days, but the rest...yeah, not really so commisserating.