This is a picture of a dog who had CP on him and needed a bath. His face has been deleted to protect his humiliation factor.

This is a picture of, oh, just some dog who has just had a nurse bath.

Sydney got cat urine on him last night. I don’t know much more than that because I don’t know much about cats, my mother’s 8 year foray into cat friendship notwithstanding. My daughter-in-law said, “Oh, my God, was he skunked?” But no, more sniffs indicated the sign of the dreaded cat liquid, which I shall call here “CP”. Actually, those would have been sniffs followed by the exclamation of “ew” and then running away.

I called my mother; she thought it was ha ha funny. Well, we will think about our revenge.

Last night I got caught up in a sudoku that I totally goofed up and then Dante’s Peak came on about midnight and suddenly I had an urge to watch it – apparently, I was suffering “fried brain sudoku stupid misplacement of a number” syndrome. So I watch a little and then decided I really should go to sleep, but I watched some more; then I took the plunge and pushed the remote button that would turn the TV off. It didn’t work, so I watched a little more and then turned the volume all the way down – that button did work. I pulled the blanket over my head and realized I really should go to the bathroom at that point rather than hoping the urge would abate until morning. Finally, I get up and go and when I come back, I turn off the TV which all along was only three steps (at most) from where I had been stretched out.

I stayed up too late and woke up all tired and eye-aching anyway. I guess once you are past the point of no return, you should just keep going. I botched my sleep and I botched my Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie experience. Rats!