My Poor Sweet Bubba

Bubba is having a terrible time today. Aside from the swimming pool that is the tri-state area due to the humidity and the fact that Bubba isn't well equipped to swim in it, his ear is bothering him something fierce. Every summer his allergies act up and Jim and I fight the battle to keep it clean and gunk free. This summer is no exception though it hasn't been as bad. Today, however, Bubba is in hell. His remedy for dealing with a gunky, itchy ear is to rub the suffering ear across the carpet in order to itch it and then proceed to shake his head continuously. The problem is, I think it gives him a headache and he isn't able to shake his head very hard after about a dozen times doing this. Then his ear turns into a throbbing, red and I'm sure painful mess. I try hard to keep it clean but sometimes I miss a day. I do have medicine for the itch (Prednisone) but it makes him way lethargic and I think it causes him to gain weight - it is a steroid. My other remedy is an ear cleaner. It smells like a mix between buttered popcorn and sour apples. He hates it. I have to squirt it into his ear while holding his head in the crook of my arm to keep it still and then squish it around. After I finally let him go, he shakes his head forever. It sucks! I hate that he has to deal with this. I bet, if I tried to feed him popcorn, he wouldn't eat it from the trauma this crap has given him. Oh, who am I kidding, he's a monster. Of course he'd eat it.

Okay, so, I just looked up how to spell Prednisone and I was reading the side effects and one of the things it says it can cause is "buffalo hump". Um, is this the same thing as "bubble butt" because I think Bubba has it.

Anyway, Bubba was also nuts on his walk today. He refused to walk in the grass and had to walk in the middle of the street even with cars barreling towards him. I of course would never but him in harms way and I played tug-of-war, trying to get him out of the way. I won. I guess the crazy mutt doesn't like to get his dainty (fat) feet wet. This from a dog who tries to pick up flattened frogs, snakes, squirrels, and other lovely animals that cars have massacred.

Here are some pictures of Bubba after getting home from his walk. He always camps out in front of the industrial fan I have at the bottom of the stairs.

Poor guy. He's finally put his head down for a nap and seems to be less itchy. I'll have to clean his ear out again today. I'm sure I'm traumatizing him. If he could write, I bet he'd write a "tell-all" about how I've tortured and abused him for years. As every mother has probably said in their lives to their children, "It's for your own good, Bubba!"