There comes a time in every life where you have to admit defeat. Lola is admitting her defeat…
At the hands of a chunk of Gouda.
This past weekend, I was enjoying a delicious bacon cheeseburger when I happened to glance at Lola. She had a river of drool coming out the side of her mouth as she stared at the food in my hands. As I lifted the burger up to my mouth, Lola stared at me with the most pathetic face she had ever managed to portray.
One would have thought she was near starvation.
I finally decided that since Lola loved cheese so much, maybe one little piece wouldn’t hurt. She usually only gets a taste of American or Provolone cheese, surely a little gouda would make her sigh in delight.
Sigh in delight she did. Lola ate her bit of cheese and then happily crawled up next to me to cuddle and watch Netflix; we had found a new series to binge watch.
Within an hour, the smells emanating from the back-end of Lola were making my eyes water. Lola kept looking back towards me and then wiping her paws across her face. I think Lola honestly thought it was me making that horrid stench. Then, driven by a need for fresh air, Lola sprinted over to the door and stared at me as she breathed untainted air.
I knew the exact moment another noxious gas bubble burst from Lola’s behind. She threw herself down on the floor and wriggled all over the floor while swatting her face with her paws. She even added a few groans of distress as she attempted to crawl to safety.
Little did she know that safety, and fresh air, were things we would not know that night.
For hours, Lola was a toxic wasteland. She reduced me to tears more than once and I had to repeatedly pretend to need a restroom just to leave her side and catch my breath. I finally managed to con the Hubster into going to bed and I foisted Lola off on him.
And then I prayed that I wouldn’t find a dead body in the bed when I was done with my Netflix.
I may be binge watching too much Criminal Minds.
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