Frankendoggie

Yesterday evening Cabell came in from his romp in the pasture and time in the dog yard with a rather obvious part in the hair on the top of his head. I gave it a superficial look and could tell that he'd cut himself but it wasn't actively bleeding so I didn't worry much about it. My main theory is that it happened on a protruding nail on the dog yard gate that opens into the pasture. The dogs crowd around that gate and burst through as soon as I open it like horses out of a starting gate. I've long thought that it was an accident waiting to happen, but I hadn't done anything about it. The other possibility is that he hit the fence out along the road because I heard the wire fence rattle against the boards when they ran out there, as they always do, to bark at the dog across the street.

This morning he had something oozing down the side of his face that had obviously come from the cut. I had Clay take a look (I'm extremely squeamish about wounds on dogs), and then we headed into town for an unscheduled visit to the vet. It was Saturday, there was only one vet working today, and they were swamped. But we waited patiently and I'm glad we did. The cut was deeper than anyone thought, and although it wasn't bleeding actively, it definitely needed to be closed up.

Cabell loves people, and he adores women in particular. The vet and all the techs were female so he let them do everything that had to be done without needing to be muzzled, sedated, or even restrained beyond me holding him in a firm hug. He should be called Cabell The Good, but with the staples in his head the name Frankendoggie comes to mind. He was due for an exam, vaccines, and blood work anyway, so we got it all done while we were there. We stopped at McDonalds on the way home and he had a hamburger of his own and part of mine. He deserved it after a very rough morning.