Me: "Hi. My name is The Laundress and I have a fucked up dog."
You: "Hi The Laundress."
Me: "You see, I got this dog two years ago to help my painfully shy daughter come out of her shell."
You: "We see, keep going."
Me: "'Kay, It worked wonders for my daughter's inhibitions but it's bringing me slowly but surely to a cardboard box on the street."
You: "Oh, surely you must be joking The Laundress."
Me: "Oh seriously, I'm not joking. You've all heard about this, I know. And of course you've all seen this. Well, 'tis happenin' again folks. Another $705.00 spent this weekend at the vet. For his asshole."
Me: "His asshole exploded again. The third time in a year. Too many times for an ass explosion if you ask me."
You: "So what are you doing about this situation. Surely you are not going to take this lying down."
Me: "Sorta. You see, I am seeing another vet tonight and I think the old vet is wondering what the problem is. I feel like I'm cheating on him. Even though he charges me an arm and a paw for services. He's calling my cell phone as we speak. And I'm afraid to confront him. I'm not good at confrontation."
You: "Oh girl. Just put your big pants on and deal with the problem."
Me: "Um, nah. I'll just slink out of the old vet's life and never speak of him again."
You: "That's not an appropriate way to handle that The Laundress.
Me: "Too bad. I can't deal any more. I'm bad in these situations and I'm not gonna start owning up now. I just want to stop dealing with the dog's ass."