Christmas Day

It's not even 5 o'clock and I've had my week's requirement of booze, yet I can still tupye, I maen tyep, oh, fcuk, you konw what I mean.

It was a delightful Christmas, though it both started and ended way too early. Murphy woke me at 4:45 this morning for a Prednisolone Pee. I knew he really needed it, so...

I was a bit disappointed to see I didn't get what I wanted for Christmas - I didn't win Lotto, and the damn cat is still alive.

Thanks to the early wake-up call, I got an early start on cleaning up for Christmas Lunch - I de-cat-haired the furniture, vacuumed the carpet, mopped the kitchen floor...and walked back into the living room to find that the cat had yarfed just a small, random puddle of puke on the freshly vacuumed floor. He doesn't throw up often, and it was not a hairball. I swear, he knew what I was saying when I told him I didn't get my Christmas Wish. But things did get tidy and company ready in plenty of time for my guests' arrival. Photo evidence, because it won't look this neat tomorrow:

We had a lovely time, ate too much, drank too much, opened presents and told stories and had fun. Sophie and Delaney have formed a bond - Delaney was trying to roll over to reach out and hug her. And Murphy farted a couple of times but didn't ruin the day with one of his incredibly toxic runny accidents, so the trip to the vet on Thursday was perfectly timed and money well spent.

It was a lot of fun, and we all left stuffed and exhausted. Oh, and as everyone was saying goodbye, the cat ran through and did a drive-by puking on the couch. Hooray for Scotchguard, but, really now? Merry Christmas to you too, you worthless old bag of hair.

The dogs are passed out on the floor and I am retreating to the couch to imitate them. I am stuffed and overly eggnogged, and I need a nap too.