When I got in my car this morning, the news was on the radio. The local news guy was in the middle of reporting on today's "incidents" in London, when he had a slip of the tongue and said "... in the Global War on Terrier."
Naturally, I paid attention, because my little dog, Abby, is a Yorkie!!!
This explains so much. Evidently, Abby developed a heart condition as her war strategy. This necessitated my buying medication for her that she uses as a weapon against me. Oh, the insidiousness of her scheming that she would have me purchase the very weapons that I would suffer from.
The medication that her ally, the veterinarian, foisted upon me is a diuretic, which employs Abby's most effective ammunition.
She performs hit-and-run attacks when she pees on the carpet, leaving me or my daughter to be caught by surprise. At other times, she employs suicide attacks--usually while feigning sleep--by peeing on herself while she's lying on the floor. These attacks require that I stop what I'm doing and give her a bath. Most of the suicide attacks are during the night, so they affect my livelihood by making me late for work.
Let the terrier owner beware: There's a war on. And it ain't pretty.
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