We have seriously been in the asshole of karma lately.

If I may, and it is my blog so I most definitely may, I would like to just vent a little bit today.

Today, I am working from home because my child has been diagnosed with “Hand, Foot, & Mouth Disease”.  This means that he’s basically a satanic infant.  And, admittedly, with good reason: he’s got large, open sores on his throat and tongue.  Nice, huh?  Imagine trying to teethe THROUGH that.  No kidding.  I’d be hellish, too.

Bryan had a flat tire the other day.

(That’s it for that one.  We had a spare.  But still.. do people even GET flats anymore?)

Money still sucks in our household.  Not as badly, and we’re quickly repairing ourselves and are DEFINITELY smarter for the wear, but watching our economy flux back and forth as of late makes me incredibly nervous.  Especially when one of us works in sales and the other one is dependent on an election for job security.

This morning, the dogs got into a humongous, ginormous fight.  While the baby and I were seated mere INCHES away from them in the floor.  The baby took hours to calm down, both from the uncontrolled rage of the dogs and from the hysteria on my part, and both dogs are bloody.  One, if not both of them, will take up permanent residence in the pound today.  I’m over trying to make this work, and I’m not putting my baby in the middle of that again.  NOT.

There are puddles of blood on my patio as a result of the second skirmish, the one where I had to beat Charlie about the head with a metal water dish to get him to release Willie’s leg.  The leg that now has a deep and bloody gash in it, about the size of Charlie’s canine.

I know Bryan’s mad at me for feeling this way.  Quite frankly, these fights never happen while he’s around.  Charlie, while agressive, has “man” issues.. we think his former not-so-good home had an abusive male in it.  So I’m not threatening to Charlie.  At all.  Bryan feels like I’m going back on the mantra of dog ownership, where you never turn a member of your pack away.  And he’s right.  Good dog owners do not do that.

There are puddles of blood on my patio.

The initial fight was inches away from my baby.

My baby cried for hours and freaked out if Charlie came in the room.

Perhaps I am no longer a good dog owner. 

I’m content to be a good mom.

Edited to Add: Willie is now back at the Ark, the no-kill shelter we found him at.  He had some severe wounds to his front legs from the second skirmish, and we know that they’ll take good care of him.  Charlie is a harder story; with his aggressive issues, he is deemed truly “unadoptable”, and any shelter would put him down immediately. Sadly, he would be a perfect dog in a single-dog home.  If you happen to know someone in the North Alabama area who would like to meet Charlie and possibly give him a forever home, please email me.