"OK, let's get and hang on tight so we can take a look. There are foxtails everywhere and we know how nasty THOSE are." I said.
We all heard the scampering as Pearl led Steve on a chase through the house; he was clever enough to block her access to the dog door. The White Dog Army was concerned their sister was in need of help so Bella barked and Zso moved closer to Steve. He came in carrying our skitterish girl and I gently took her paw without touching the area that was wet and inflamed.
"Don't see any foxtails but it looks like she might have torn her dew claw," I explained trying to see clearly without causing pain. "Hold her," Steve placed Pearly Girl in my arms. I surrounded her tightly and spoke reassuringly...she and I are not usually on such intimate terms.
Steve returned with antiseptic spray and vet wrap. "Let's spray well, cover it up, and take a good look at it tomorrow. Perhaps if she cannot fuss with it, the area won't be so painful and we can see if we need to have her vet come by."
Pearl gets majorly motion sick in the car and her nerves turn her digestion liquid so Dr. Spohn, a mobile vet, comes to her when she needs treatment for "normal" things.
As I held and cooed, Steve got the leg wrapped. I was in the middle of telling our girl how brave she was and how it would be all right when Pearl hit the "Enough!" point, wiggled out of my arms and jumped down. She curled into the corner of her blanket on the Watching Chair and glared at me.
No, you cannot see my leg, Dad!
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