Control, control, you must learn control!

As with all other members of my family, I have a temper. Over the years, I have learned to control it, for the most part, and don't lose it nearly as much as I once did.

But it's there. I can feel it. There are times when the hate surges through me and I want to go "nuke" someone (in the words of my dad).

Countrywide brought it out in me and that did them little good. Now our vet has.

Explanation: This past weekend, the missus and I went to my parents' house in Round Rock because it was my dad's birthday, my birthday and the nephew was going to be in town. To simplify things, we decided to leave Deuce and Ripken at the vet's for a couple days. We've done it before, so what's the worst thing that could happen--if they do what they're supposed to and keep them together?

Note the "keep them together" part. It's something I requested three different times--once on the phone when we made the reservations and twice when we dropped them off.

"No problem," we were told.

Problem.

I went to get the boys yesterday and you would have thought they'd just spent 18 months in Iraq. They were, for lack of a better word, traumatized. Especially Ripken, who came home shaking, hid in the closet, came out and slept on our bed and lost control of his bladder. Not what I want when I'm expecting a $60 bill and it comes out to be $140.

I didn't say anything, but I think the look of utter disgust was noticed. More on that in a second.

I knew something was up. The dark side surged. So the missus decided she'd take care of the issue. She called the vet this afternoon and was told, after she completely lost her shit, that no, Ripken and Deuce had not been together, which was contrary to our wishes. Instead, our 65 pound fuzzball who was neutered when he was 2 months old had been tossed in with a bunch of much bigger, meaner dogs. It totally screwed him up.

My wife was disgusted. "Well, we hope you can forgive us," the assistant said flippantly.

"No, I don't think I can," she said. "And you can explain this to my husband."

The hemming and hawing my wife had received before was amplified. Apparently, she was talking to the person who saw the look of disdain on my face the day before and, I believe, knew they'd ignored our instructions.

"I'll have the vet call him," she said.

They haven't. I'm calling them first thing in the morning. And the rhymic, mechanical breathing will probably be very evident when I do. I'm pissed and, honestly, don't care about controlling it right now.