November 25, 2016

White Dog was limping and refused to come over to me. Steve lifted her up and placed her in my arms. "What is wrong, Baby Girl?" I asked as I ran my hand down her leg gently squeezing. She winced when I reached a spot just above her left rear ankle.

She was bleeding. I shifted her so I could see better. WD bore a scrape and skin clumpy with spittle. As we cleaned up the small spot, I demanded to know what had happened.

A bit earlier, I was reminded, two of the boys, Benson and Stormer, were roughhousing in the hallway. WD had politely asked for permission to pass but they had ignored her. Her need to get to the dog door eventually drove her to push her way through the machismo...and she found herself stuck in the middle of a lunge when Stormer mistook her determination to get past with a desire to play.

She made it clear that SHE was not playing with her tone and swift move over him.White Dog went outside but returned limping. Fortunately the boys had given up their goofiness and she passed quickly to her bed where she cowered.

White Dog CAN be a bit of a drama queen and she DOES know how to take advantage of a situation. Steve set her highness up on the sofa surrounded by pillows as he massaged in antiseptic. He fed her a few small treats and spoke in gentle baby tones as he gave her a doggie aspirin and excused her from nite-nite walks.

I had a serious talk with Stormer and Ben about how over the top macho stuff could quickly escalate into one of them hurting the other, which would be horrible...or worse yet, they could injure an innocent bystander like WD. They both felt awful.

After walks (White Dog waited on the couch), Steve carried her out to potty. Mind you, she had not been incapacitated but Steve hated to see her limping. Then he brought her in and tucked her into bed.

Both boys tried to make apologies but WD turned her head. "Perhaps try again in the morning," I told them, "You scared her and she hurts now."

We were about to head over to the bedroom when we heard a sad whimper. Steve turned back to see what White Dog needed. I raised an eyebrow when he sat down on the bed.

"She wanted me to move the water dish so she cold reach it from her bed," he replied. I rolled my eyes. "I hope the personal injury lawyers in town don't hear of this," I commented. "She will be fine in the morning," he told everyone.