Peppy got neutered yesterday. As I wrote as my facebook status, my excitement to his procedure was completely disproportionate. I was so excited for him to be gone for 36 hours, I didn't even know what to do with myself. Turns out, I fell asleep (with the gate open!) at 7pm, woke up not fearing the kitchen and him growling for food. Unfortunately when I asked the girls if they missed them, 4 year old said, "meh, not really." I didn't understand the stress that Peppy is until he was gone. But now he's back.
Mr Incredible walked in the house with a shimmer (or was it a tear for Peppy?) in his eye telling me not to laugh. I don't normally laugh at people or things, or altogether immature scenarios, but seriously:
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sorry too lazy to turn this around |
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Peppy you look like hell |
You would never know that the little dude just had his balls cut off. (crass, sorry, i know. but fur realz). He's not lost an ounce of Pep in his step (well maybe an ounce or two.)