My poor dog. And now I'm Uncle Albert

My poor old dog is going gaga and her ears are in terrible shape. I have to go buy a muzzle today so we can put medicine down her ears -- last night she bit Mike when we tried to do medication. Sure, yeah, I felt sorry for Mike. But my response was for the poor old hurting dog--and it was a bit out of proportion for the situation.

Don't look at me or my dog funny or I'll burst into tears.

I think I'm identifying with the once sweet-natured old bitch who's no longer interested in putting up any sort of front, or worse, is incapable of it. 

hahahhahahwaaaaah
So as I wailed, and wailed and I started to feel like the toddler who can't recover from the broken banana.

After a while, I was accused of having PB&J. No make that PBA and not the professional bowler's association.  I stopped snuffling long enough to look it up. I took the quiz (after choosing the name "Mike Blavis" for the patient in question and "other neurological factor" for my underlying condition). Well, boy howdy, I am clearly a candidate for WTF disease of the week.

ON THE OTHER HAND, I AM NOT ALONE! YOU PROBABLY NEED TO TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR TOO. ANSWER THESE SEVEN QUESTIONS TO FIND OUT

 The answers range from never applies (which is a 1, not a 0--bogus) to applies most of the time (a five)

The lowest score anyone can get is 7 and I think 12 is cause for alarm. I got 14 but mostly because I gave myself a 5 on: Others have told me that I seem to become amused very easily or that I seem to become amused about things that really aren’t funny. 

Yes, yes, I need to run right out and get my doctor to prescribe this medication, whatever the hell it is. Apparently one of the ingredients is from cough suppressants or maybe benedryl.
 
Coping with an Uncle Albert from Mary Poppins might drive the caregivers nuts and lack of control as my poor dog (and I) know is just awful. .But still..
Yet
Okay.
 when I see this on an evaluation: 
 There are times when I won’t be thinking of anything happy or funny at all, but then I’ll suddenly be overcome by funny or happy thoughts. 
I think for once pathology doesn't sound so horrible.

I wish I could give my sad old dog some happy puppy pills. We could bob along the ceiling together.

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