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Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Man's Best Friend?

It's been a trying day.

Got up this morning, like every morning, leashed up the dogs and went out for our daily walk. We
got about five blocks before we saw our first cat of the day.

We see cats every day. You'd think by now they would know the drill.

The only thing different was this cat didn't run away, it just sat on the curb looking at us. The dogs weren't quite sure what to do; they're programmed to chase, but when the script doesn't go as planned they get a little confused. This cat didn't seem to want to give up it's spot on the sidewalk, but as we walked by it suddenly lost it's nerve. Off it bolted into the street and the dogs both lurched after it, catching me off guard. I made a three point landing--knees and one hand--while still holding the leashes in my other hand as they tried to pull me into the street. Here's the result:

I made Mark take this picture before he doctored me up.
Take-down tally: two scraped and bruised knees, scraped hand, sprained ankle.

This afternoon our dog Twitch had an appointment scheduled to check out a sore on his back leg. A few hundred dollars later we have a powder to apply, a surgery to schedule, and he has a lovely Elizabethan collar to wear until he stops bothering the sore. He hates the collar. I hate the collar too, because what does he do? Wander around the house forlornly following me at every turn, smashing the edge of his collar into my bandaged, oozing knees.

Twitch in his "Cone of Shame"

They might be "man's best friend," but they're sure not mine today.

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