But to my surprise, after a week of being here the dog wasn't so smelly. And she wasn't so smelly until my mom got freaked out again and held onto the dog and cried. She then became smelly once again. Are you following? The dog not my mom. Stinking really bad.
So we walked our own dog several times a day and my moms dog several times a day all freaking winter. I have grown to hate her. I can't help it. Her hips are very bad and mom won't face it. She has big tumors on various parts of her body, to which she doesn't want checked because she doesn't want to know the truth.
As I sat on the couch sobbing in my wine and to Dave, I told him I had a plan. If you knew Dave you would see the look of amusement on his face as he said "let's hear it."
Well, I said really warming up, tomorrow when mom goes to sleep, I'll take the dog to the vet and have her put to sleep! Then I'll race back here with the dog and slide her dead ass back in the crate and when mom wakes up, BAM!!!! Dog died peacefully in her crate.
As I looked over at Dave waiting for his approval he started to laugh and said "Jesus Melissa!"