In light of the recent weather event – affectionately* known as the polar vortex – I’ve made a decision.** In the summer of 2012, shortly after he joined our home, Tavish went in for a dental appointment. On that fateful day, he said farewell to eight teeth.*** In honor of those brave enamel soldiers**** that gave their lives that day, I hereby proclaim the great teeth pulling of 2012… the Molar Vortex.
It would also be a good name for what happened to this guy:
Thank you for your time and attention to this matter.
*Affectionately? More like scornfully. Mournfully. I-wish-I-lived-somewhere-warm-fully. (I know, I know… that last one’s just a near rhyme. Call it poetic license. If you can do better, the floor is yours, Wordsworth.)
**I’ve also been plagued by the following cheer, inspired by one I heard in high school: “Brrrr. It’s cold in here! There must be a vortex in the atmosphere!”
***Life on the streets is rough, yo. (Or maybe life on the dirt roads? Those aren’t really streets.) There are no roving dentists offering free dental care to adorable homeless dogs making their way in the world today. It takes everything they’ve got. Taking a break from all their worries sure would help a lot. (Wouldn’t you like to get away… from me and my meandering thoughts? Probably.)
****Martika, I think we found your next big hit song. (I don’t know why I just decided that Martika is a regular reader, but how funny would it be if she was?)