Friend and Foe (and poop and MAD)

I actually did something that's the ideal for the legal profession, but rarely the reality unless you were friends first. I had drinks tonight with opposing counsel from my supreme court oral argument. If you can't sit down and have a beer afterwards, what's the point? We commiserated, laughed at ourselves, and complimented one another on Wednesday's battle. In addition to drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. It was actually fun and she seemed as eager as I am to start a regular happy hour. Neither of us are part of the "in" crowd amongst legal professionals in the Magic City, mostly because we aren't middle-aged white men. It'd be nice to have another friend. The last friend I made in this town pisses on my carpet for no apparent reason.

Actually, I'm quite proud of young Aldous. He hasn't peed on anything aside from the puppy pads in at least 4 days and, for the previous several days, he had only peed on the carpet (or rug on top of the carpet - it was time to bust out my area rugs) when he overshot the puppy pad.

He had a runny poop incident while I was in Deadwood, which I suspect was caused by stress. And then, when I got back, I stupidly switched his food so he continued to have some "soft stools," which, while not good, were always on the puppy pad, sometimes a little of it would be on the rug next to the puppy pad. And, he pooped like four times a day, I'm sure because he couldn't help it. He never willfully plopped down in the middle of a room and crapped, though, which is appreciated. His poop is now solid and he's back to going once a day, in the evenings, and best of all, outside.

Totally gross and lame that I'm writing about D.H.O.G.'s bowel movements, but I live in a wasteland. And I'm the crazy animal lady. And the Sheriff had to cancel due to a UTI (and the $600 last-minute plane ticket, I'm sure). Luckily, he is scheduled to get between 12-18 inches of snow over the weekend. And I'll be crying on Waikiki Beach by myself after a blow out with my sister in 9 days.

When I get the energy and/or inclination, I'll tell you about our all-out war on Tuesday. We completely disregarded the military concept of MAD (mutually assured destruction). I launched the first shot, knowing I'd receive an equally crippling blow right back, with both of us completely devastated at the end. That knowledge, despite common logic, wasn't enough to keep my nukes in check. I freaked out. She freaked out. I cried. She cried. I was happy that she cried.

She called me for legal advice on behalf of a friend an hour later, as though nothing happened. And I gave it to her. The fight was not mentioned, despite the fact that my eyes were still puffy. We're that kind of family. I'm hoping we're the kind of family that doesn't punch each other in the face while on vacation. But, I can forsee a freak out at the airport when she won't let me leave to have a cigarette, I kick a sign, and neither of us speak during the 8 hour flight, with one of us crying most of the way home. That's a special shout out to my homies. You know who you are...