CNN (Chicken News Network)

I almost forgot- we (well, Aaron) discovered right before we left for vacation that we definitely had a couple roosters. How? 6 a.m. and "ER ER ER ER EEERRRRR"! One of them sounded normal, the other reminded me of Peter Brady on the puberty episode. "When it's time to change, then it's time to chay- ay- annge!"So anyhoos, no more red ones. Fatburst, we bid you farewell. You will not be missed. No neck wringing this time, he gave them away.
And SPEAKING of hen homicide, Aaron made Mole a couple weeks before we left on vacation. This is pronounced "Mole-ay", and refers to the poo brown jarred sauce you buy to mix with the chicken. Everyone likes it except me, I think it tastes like sweat, and I always tell Aaron it is actually moles (the skin growth variety) that have been ground up and liquified. Whenever he makes it, I just put the rice, beans, and cheese into my tortilla, hold the MOLE. I was scooping leftovers out of the tupperware the next day, and I was like "Geez, why's there's so much chicken left still?" "Because I made it with two instead of one." I look over at him and there's a big grin on his fuzzy mug. "EEEWWWW! UGH!" I'm so glad he made something I don't eat with them, because he never would've told me it was them before I dug in. I know, I know! I eat chicken all the time, and it's not like I was fond of the feathered funkbags, but STILL. There's just something about eating something that you saw when it was alive- clucking around the coop, crapping everywhere, picking and pecking.....4 down, two to go. The black and white ones are left, and have done nothing to earn their keep to this day. Apparently it takes a few months before they start laying eggs. They look big enough to be squeezing out golf balls to me! I'm guessing Aaron's going to be on the hunt for MORE hens too, now that our numbers have dwindled. BAH.

Potheads, Perverts, and Puke

I like to grab the readers attention right from the get go. This is a work related blog, so many things happen that I could put on here, but I try to narrow them down to the most entertaining.
We have a few clients that come in totally stoned on a regular basis. They stumble in an hour late for their appointments, eyes bloodshot, smiling stupidly. We had one such client pick his dog up after he left it for neuter the day before- as a matter of fact I was telling all of my co-workers the day he dropped it off that I KNOW he's normally baked when he comes in. ANYWAYS, he brought his girlfriend with him to retrieve his dog- maybe he thought between the two of them they might be able to comprehend something or make some sense. One of my other co-workers was lucky enough to be the one to go over instructions with them. She had just started with how he had to limit his activity for about a week when he was like "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure." "Is it okay to give him weed to help keep him calm?" "No....I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be a good idea." He then starts to tell her how the dog ate a bunch of their stash one time- "Oh. Is that where it went?" asks the girlfriend. The marijuana debate continues, and the girlfriend says "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." Silence. "Umm...ne'ermind." "Are you sure?" Silence. "...ne'ermind." You had to see her impersonating the girl to really appreciate it, eyes drooping, words slurring...she left the room without going over the rest of the discharge with them, she said she couldn't take it anymore.
Then YESTERDAY, we had an dirty, old, obnoxious man came in. We actually have an alert on his chart to warn anyone who has the misfortune of dealing with him. He refused to wait, even though he just walked in. After they put him in a room, he was pretty much shouting until someone came in. "I'm in hare WAITIN'." "When is someone comin' in HARE?" After one of my co-workers came in he said,"Aintcha gonna close the door?" "NO." He talked the entire time the doc was talking and she said it was worse than the cajun on Waterboy, she just kept talking until she was done then left. He blew a kiss to one of the kennel girls, and every time our office manager walked by he said "HUP one, HUP two, HUP three..." I was laughing my ass off, of course, I didn't have to deal with him. Although I've CERTAINLY handled my fair share of vile hillbillies.
AND then finally, there's the puke. This happened a few weeks ago, and I told Ca-cas I would blog it. She was in isolation, medicating a sick dog, when it horked up all over the floor. She was trying to clean it up, and it was that really slimy, slithery stuff. The kind that just moves away from the paper towel or slides off of it when you try to scoop it up. While attempting to contain it long enough to dispose of it, SHE threw up in the trash can. I told her I would say I wish I could've seen it, but then I probably would've barfed too.
Well, that's about does it for this edition of Appalachian Animal Clinic, sorry if it blows, I AM TIRED. I have a vacation blog to do, I just have to get motivated enough to put in my pictures. Now I'm off to watch a movie with Tatum and Reese, they keep pestering me to join them. It's a classic from the Mary Kate and Ashley film series. I'm pretty sure it had some Oscar nominations.

Auld Lang Syne

An old friend of Aaron's came to visit recently, he hasn't seen him in like 3 years, and it's been about 8 for me. I'm pretty sure I was pregnant with Tatum the last time I saw him. He was passing through, so he only stayed ONE night, which I GUESS is better than nothing. Anyway, I told him I'd blog about him and then send him my blog address.
FIRST of all, I washed my sheets (they were April fresh) and neatly made my bed so he could sleep in it that night. I was already sleeping in Tatum's bottom bunk, but he told Aaron he'd feel bad taking it, so he slept on the couch...

It's really dark, I know, I didn't want to get any closer (or turn on the light) and cause the creatures to stir. I think he just wanted to be near Aaron so they could fall asleep to the sound of each other's melodic voices. They sounded like a snoring symphony when I came on the scene.

He also asked me if I remembered any Tomball stories. We all remembered one first and clearly. I know I've told many of you the story of how Aaron tricked me into looking at a picture of his crap (literally). He tried to convince me many times to come into the bathroom after pinching one off. Apparently he had several that were an interesting hue, of enormous size, or a unique shape. "JEN! Come in here! You've got to see this!" Of course, I politely declined each time ("HELL NO!"). So one day, I picked up pictures I'd had developed (in the old days when film was on a roll), and I was sifting through them. "AAAAHHHHH!" He took a picture of our toilet, complete with his turd trophy. Lucky for him he wasn't committing an actual crime, because his feet were in the photo. There would be no mistaking those hooves in a line-up. "Yes sir, I'm sure- it's number seven. I could never forget those toes..."

ANYWAY, this leads to me to his friend's story. AGAIN, I've developed a roll of film. I'm looking through them....and there's a picture of him with his back to the camera, his head down, and his elbows bent. I WANTED to put this "before" picture in, but I couldn't find it! So I'm thinking "Hmm, that's strange....AAAAHHHHHH!" Now, I DID find this picture, but as my site is not XXX, I didn't put in on here. Does the phrase "cat brains" mean anything to you? How about "skin chandeliers"? I was scarred for life. Of course, we did keep the picture...

AND I thought of another story. It involves two guys (assholes, really), and a girl (an angel), and one lighter that had been tampered with. The girl smoked at the time (nasty habit), and it was rather windy out. When it was breezy, she would put the lighter and her FACE inside her shirt, so she could spark up without a problem. Both gentleman (douches, really) watched her proceed to do this, knowing full well the flame was set to blow torch. I think you can guess at the rest. Luckily no one was seriously injured. BASTARDS. Anyway, below is a picture of the three of us....

Hopefully so much freaking time won't go by before we hang out again!

On to YMCA news...Since the brown trout incident at the pool, Reese is convinced someone has pooped in the pool every single time we go. We'll be swimming along, or playing shark or something, and she'll say "Hang on a second!" Her goggled head will dip below the surface, then she'll pop back up and say, "I'm pretty sure there's some turd down there!" "No Reese, there's not. And you do realize if there actually was we'd have to get out." Of course, I still inspect the area closely whenever she makes her announcement.

And speaking of foul discharges from human holes, Tatum threw up at the pool yesterday. We were at the baby pool, and I was sitting on the side dangling my feet in. She emerged from the water doing that rattling, chunky belching thing they do when they suck back too much H2O. "Tatum, I keep telling you to keep your mouth shut when it's in the water!" By this time she's right next to me and she goes. "Mom, I didn't BLLLSLASDAEFGGH..." Her lunch(partially digested) landed on my towel and my leg, a very tiny dollop hit the concrete. I used the towel to wipe off my leg and swipe the concrete, then I threw it away. I was just relieved none of it hit the water, then WE would be the ones responsible for the pool closing. Joyce would've given me the silent treatment for weeks...

When I was going through pictures looking for the pre-plums (more like prunes really) photo, I came across the picture below. It was one of those booths where it takes a picture of you and your significant other, and puts your features together so you know what your kid will look like. I can't get over how much it looks like Tatum! Amazing!

Join us next time for the gripping saga of Pedro the pig, a courageous porker who overcame the odds to become an Olympic gymnast...