First off, let me say thank you for all your kind words and well-wishes. That really means a lot to me!
Twenty-frickin'-something years; that's how long I've gone without having to pay much attention to my chompers, and now, after all these years my problem is that my teeth are infected?! What the hell is THAT all about?
I stopped eating, I stopped drinking, I got dehydrated, I lost weight, and I practically strained my vocal chords because my damn teeth were infected! Who'd have thought such a thing?
Sure, sure, I could have tried to tell them that my teeth were bothering me... if I could talk.
I guess the visit to the vet wasn't as bad as it could've been, considering the results. Probably the worst part was having to have my, um, butt manually cleaned out. Yup, I was kind of backed up, and, well, I'm sure you know what happens there.
So, all of this stuff was because my teeth have issues. Well, at least most of it. As for my odd behavior with the toilet, the windows, etc.- don't know what to say on that one. Must be because of the teeth as well, since I haven't displayed such behavior since the weekend.
Mom and dad have been administering (how's that for a big word for so early in the morning! See, I'm feeling better) something called oral antibiotics, which I'm getting better at tolerating. At first I wanted to gouge the sonofabitch's eyes out for sticking that syringe in my damn mouth, but I know dad does it for my own good.
As for the toothpaste, I'm fighting the urge to pierce the skin on dad's hand. I'm trying, I really am, but I absolutely hate things being stuck in my mouth (unless it's something tasty, of course).
Other than a previously-noted heart murmur and possible kidney concerns (which aren't out of the ordinary for a guy who's pushed his existence as far as I have) I'd say I'm pretty much back to my ornery, mellow, demanding, cuddly, spoiled, sleepy, unique self (I only wrote half of this last part).
Again, thank you all so much for your prayers and kind words.