Urgh.. nice

I'm a fairly nice person right? Tonight I have allowed the puppy to sit next to me on the sofa and sleep. He is stretched out happily, relegating K to the chair that he is too tall to sit comfortably in... and what is my reward? The gentle lick of a puppy's tongue as I type, the warmth of his little body against my leg? Nope. Farts. Yep. The puppy is flatulent. And OMG does it stink! I keep having to take short little breaths.. urgh. Have tried covering his bottom area with a cushion, but the smell is still escaping. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

Just briefly tonight as I'm tired, and lightheaded from not breathing, a little story..

My, umm, Aunt's husband (who I last saw when I was about 5 and don't know at all, but have to be informed of all the gossip) has just found a lump of some sort and the doctors are worried it is cancer.. The following is a transcript of a conversation my other Aunt had with him.. *

*Names have been changed to protect identities

Aunt Helen "Hi Bill, how are you? Doing ok?"
Uncle Bill "Not so great, Helen, but I'll be fine.."
Aunt Helen "So when are you going in for your autopsy then?"
Uncle Bill "What the hell? I may have cancer and you want me to die??"

I think she may have meant "biopsy." It's now the subject of a family row, with Bill not talking to Helen, Bill's wife Jane moaning at my mother, Helen's husband Tom complaining to my father.

What a time to say the wrong word, huh?

K x

(Another leak from the dog.. I can't breathe.. the air is all hazy.. must be some sort of poisonous gas..."