We are all still alive... barely.

2 weeks ago, our lovely dear Maximus decided that when his PB filled kong got wedged in between his fancy orthopedic bed and his ex pen, he would kill his bed for this travesty. In a mere 1 1/2 hours while we are at a hospital visiting friends and their new baby Maximus ingested a sh!t ton of memory foam. Fantastic. I threw little man at the hubby and jumped into the car to take Max to induce vomitting at the e vet. I thought for sure in that small timeframe that he would puke it all out. Um, yeah, well then he wouldn't be Max and I would actually be lucky for once.

2 rounds of emesis (fancy doctor talk for puking)
1 round of endoscopy (stupid foam wouldn't hold together for removal)
=
His 3rd emergency obstruction surgery in just 1 calendar year. Yeah, we are pretty famous at the e vet. I find myself explaining to everyone that will listen that we really are good pet owners. In fact, I hardly ever talk about Bellona because she is so damn good. Sigh. My life is anything but boring. Which leads me to wonder what I do to bring this on. Is it merely because I am a special (as in crazy) enough to care for this dog? Is Maximus' sole purpose in life to teach me patience? Needless to say we are all tapped out financially even with pet insurance so Maximus is now relegated to a hard plastic airline crate when we aren't home. No comfy bed for your bionic knees dude, too bad so sad.

Here are some pics to marvel at. One day his epitah shall read "Maximus, the goat with 9 lives"