Dear IRS: After the amount of time and money shelled out this week, the dog is officially the third child. Does that mean we can deduct his care-related expenses? Or at least use the HSA account?

What does it mean when your regular vet finds out how much you spent ($1785.34--it honestly doesn't even seem like real money) on emergency surgery for your dog, he doesn't charge you on your next visit to irrigate a now infected incision, give an antibiotic shot, and dress the wound? Besides the fact that I have the best vet on the earth, I think it means your vet feels sorry for you and your Mastercard. Not as sorry as I feel for Sherman. The incision is infected. So on top of recovering from major surgery, he's sick. Ever try to change a dressed abdominal wound on a loopy golden retriever who weighs about 14 lbs less than you? I need a drink.

To get the proper context why I wish I were drunk before noon, I should start at the beginning with my morning yesterday. I intended to drop the dog off at Dad's so I could be parent helper in Cassie's class. Except that my alarm didn't go off. And when I woke up (LATE!) I noticed that Sherman didn't sleep with his weeping wound on the towel I provided to protect the carpet. So my bedroom looked like the scene of a minor homicide. A can of Spot Shot and 20 minutes later, I got ready. We were crazy late and I didn't have time to run by Dad's. I left the dog in the laundry room with his lampshade. The Parent Helper gig went swimmingly until my little princess BIT a kid on the playground. He pushed her first, but still...she BIT HIM! The Mother's Day Tea was nice, but I was honestly still trying to get over my horror at being the mom of a biter. We'll call that the cloud over the tea. When we got home, the laundry room was the site of homicide 2 (much easier to clean that floor). So I called the vet and they wanted to see him.

This time I dropped Cassie off at Dad's and made it to the vet right on time. (Late for human kids, on time for canine kid. Clearly, I'm a mom with my priorities in order. Which may explain why it is the 30 pounder who bites instead of the over-90 pounder...) The vet took one look at the incision, decreed infection and irrigated the wound. It took three of us to hold him down while they did that. And still his tail wagged. Then he gave him an antibiotic shot and dressed the wound. Mostly b/c I complained how gross it was that it wasn't dressed. This morning, as I changed the dressing, I learned why dog wounds aren't usually dressed. Adhesive tape + fur. YOUCH! Being MacGuyver Mom (and out of that cool adhesive tape that sticks to nothing but itself), I ace-bandaged a new dressing on. The incision doesn't look any less infected to me though. I hope I'm wrong. If he ends up septic and I'm out almost 2 grand AND my dog--MacGuyver mom is gonna go postal.

And that's why I'm comptemplating a vodka tonic before noon...although I may settle for shooting the bird in the vent w/an air soft rifle instead...