I hate sick season

The plague on my house continues.
It now turns out the only ones who have avoided the nasty gastro bug are me and little Skye.
I suppose the lamb's blood I put above her nursery door helped. Got that tip from the Ten Commandments.
God, I love home remedies.
Anyways, the big fallout appears to be diarrhea, diarrhea, diarrhea.
We can't get our new washer and dryer too soon.
In trying to help, I may have set the cat amongst the pigeons. I prescribed Imodium and now Scott has the opposite problem -- you know what that is.
I did warn him. As my friend, John, the alcoholic says: Imodium is the drinker's friend. It just blasts all the bacteria out, so it will take a few days to grow again.
Better, I told, Scott than gas and diarrhea, especially when you're a car salesman who likes to take people on long test drives.
Poor little Ming, the pug is ailing, too.
It's the beginning of allergy season and she hasn't eaten in a couple of days. I dosed her last night with the little pink pills the vet prescribed, the pills that have saved my sanity for the past four years.
Nothing like a wheezing, sneezing, gyrating pug at four in the morning to get your day started off in the right general direction.
Let's hope the plague passes soon.
And the spours in the grass fly over to the neighbor's.
It has sick season.

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