How many times a month can I blog about my dog? Well, every day, if I really want to. I believe I've mentioned before how great an escape artist she is. Well, I didn't post this story last night, since I didn't want it to detract from the rest of my talk about Tennessee. On Sept. 19, she broke free of her leash/collar that I'd put her on before going to school. By breaking free, I mean she snapped the clasp. I got her three minutes before I wanted to leave, and I didn't have a chance to clean up her bloody front right paw. Luckily Mom was on her way home, so a quick phone call assured that the princess wouldn't have a muddy paw all day. That evening I took a look, in between packing, and it appeared that she'd managed to make cuts in the innermost long talon on that paw.
Flash forward to when I get home from Tennessee. She's walking on the paw okay, but it's looking like despite our cleaning efforts, she did get an infection. By Wednesday, Mom had enough, and took my princess to the vet on Wednesday. Enter a neon-orange bandage on her paw (looks like a cast, but cooler), antibiotics, and one cone. We all know how good dogs are at finding the medicine in their food, so I won't comment on that. But this mutt can get out of the cone. I've made the fool thing as small as it will go, and she still slips it off. I have to manipulate her ears to get the cone to slide on, but she manages to get it off. Dad tried to put it back on after he got home from work, and he said she had the cone off in two minutes.
I get to take her in tomorrow for the vet to look at the paw again, see if the infection had traveled very far up into her paw. Tomorrow you might be regaled with the tale of how hard it is to drive when she's begging me for attention during the whole 15 minute trip to town. Won't that be exciting?