Our hookworm girl, Mollie, was surrendered with her sister Sandie. Sandie is, well, the craziest dog I have ever met.



She's a pug/chihuahua mix, we think. She is constantly on the move, always running or barking. Sandie doesn't like being touched in certain areas, like her paws, ears, or butt. She lets me pet her ears now, but still barks and mouths me when I touch her paws. I do this often. It's funny.

She's actually potty trained (shock, gasp, that's a first!). Yesterday morning I took her outside to do her business, and she squatted down to do #2. The poop started to come out, then she BARKED, YELPED, the poop flew out, got pinched off and she ran back in the house, angry. She jumped up on the couch, shaking.

I put on some gloves and picked up the poop. No sharp edges, weird objects or anything that could've hurt coming out.. just normal poo.

My conclusion? Sandie REALLY hates things touching her butt.

I've now witnessed this 3 times and I'm determined to get it on video. Weirdest dog, ever.

Just got a phone call from the vet about the results of Mollie's fecal. She has hookworms.

Did I mention she's been having diarrhea ALL OVER MY CARPET? And these little shits burrow in through your feet. So even though I cleaned it, steam cleaned the carpet, there's a good possibility that there's worms waiting to suck blood from my digestive tract.

Nice. I though that karma worked differently, but apparently I deserve to have intestinal parasites.

This morning I was thinking about other girls my age. They're carefree. Still in college, living at home, dating and going to bars every night of the week.

I started thinking about this while I was on the phone with my vet, listening to her ramble on about fecal smears. "How much poop?" I asked.

"About a tablespoon."

So I hung up the phone and thought about the state of my life. I could've avoided becoming an adult so quickly, could still be living with my parents and switching majors. Instead, I'm rifling through my silverware drawer trying to decide which spoon I'm going to use to scrape diarrhea off my carpet, and then throw away. I picked one that had been in the garbage disposal a few times and ever since has cut my mouth when I tried to eat ice cream.

So the shit is in a ziplock baggie, and I'm about to run a dog to the vet. I've only known this dog for 48 hours and she hasn't eaten a morsel of food. One day, when she's loving up on her new mom in her new home, hopefully she'll thank me. And maybe save up her biscuits to buy me a better carpet cleaner.

Karma: +5