Domestically Feral
After battling giant fire ant beds in the yard, I thought I was solving one problem. Then Boof decided to lick the ant poison, because apparently eating random household objects was no longer enough of a challenge. What followed was trembling, an emergency vet visit, a full-body guilt spiral, and the realization that I am now fully trapped in my Pet Wrangling Era. Boof is home, medicated, unstable, and deeply loved. I, meanwhile, have a migraine and would like to crawl under my bed for three business days. Please pray for Boof. And possibly for me.
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