SPIKE

Last week while jogging, Adam found a small miniature dachshund wondering around who was much the worse for wear. We believe his owners abandoned him some time ago because not only can you count ALL of his ribs, but (we believe) he has an infected anal gland because his butt is puffy and swollen o the point he will not sit down (only lay) and his little teeth are rotting out of his head.

He is certainly a pathetic case.

BUT! He is eating soggy food like it's a feast fit for a king, and even had a pee war with Guinness Friday night. In the house. While we were asleep.

Charming little bastards.

But it was while this potential new family member (who the vet told us is named Spike)(he had a vet tag on him and we've been trying to call the old owners for 5+ days) was curled up napping on Adam's lap that I decided to further inspect his various maladies.

I lifted his tail to inspect his butt. It was swollen.

I poked his puffy, swollen butt. It was squishy.

I then poked a lump on his still attached boy parts. Adam was irate.

"YOU DO NOT POKE THE TESTICLES!"

"But! I wanted to see if it was squishy like his butt."

"You do. not. poke. the testicles."

"But he has a lump!"

"No. I don't care. You don't poke his testicles and you don't poke my testicles."

"Wha?! I.. but.. I have NEVER poked your testicles!"

"But you would if given the chance!"

"... I.. no..."

"..."

"ALRIGHT! You're probably right."

"Damn right I am, woman."

Ed Note: Yes, I realize just how demented we both are. IT'S LIKE WE WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER!! It's S-C-A-R-Y!