Tuesday, December 28, 2004

What an English major can't describe

My dog, Max, has nerve cancer and, as of late, excessively bad breath.

He might be rotting from the inside out. I’m quite certain that he is, actually.

Max was begging for food with his head in my lap while I was inhaling my post-gym dinner and reading blogs. Max’s halitosis extremeosis wafted up to my very stuffy, impacted with crusty boogers, healing-from-cauterization nose and nearly knocked me out.

I would like to use a simile (or possibly a metaphor), but nothing on this green earth smells like Max’s breath.

Before you all think that I’m a pussy, I’d like you to all know that Max’s breath has always been ripe with rankness. HE EATS HIS OWN SHIT.

You would think that nothing could be worse than the breath of an animal with turd mashed into his molars, but you would be wrong. I swear on all things holy and David J. Matthews, Max's breath is much worse than it’s ever been.

Just in case anyone was curious.

1 comments:

Plantation said...

Hey A. I can relate. My poor old doggie Oscar had the same problem. He was old, sick, ate his own, and his breath could melt steel. Sadly, I had to put him down last year {sniff, sniff boo-hoo}. So bad breath and all, enjoy maxie while you can...

PS thanks for the Greek picture compliment.

 
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