A three-legged dog walks into a bar and says, "I am looking for the man who shot my paw."
Okay, I know that's a terrible joke, but Dusty's surgery is tomorrow and I am absolutely GOING NUTS. I wish I could pick her up now, but I have to wait until Tuesday. I have never felt this anxious over a dog before. I was so antsy today, I cleaned up the massive hoard under the little girls' bunk bed. And that is no small feat. Junk has been accumulating under there for years, and I practically needed a HazMat suit to tackle it all. I found toys, trash, clothes, shoes, dishes, utility bills, remote controls, missing household pets...
I don't even know how I am going to be able to focus tomorrow at work.
Here is a (blurry) picture of Dusty: