Blue's got a boo boo

Blue sliced his foot open. Don't feel too sorry for him. He did it to himself. He runs around the backyard like a neurotic buffoon chasing a cat that never leaves the top of the shed. Every time he goes back there he body slams himself into the shed. This last time, after his body slam, he landed his paw on something sharp, we're not exactly sure what. After two expensive trips to the vet, he has to wear this cute bonnet to keep him from licking at his infected wound, that at the first and most expensive trip to doggie ER, only exacerbated.

So he's on dog house arrest. Which means he has to stay inside all day. And when I get a chance, I have to walk him to his leash (which is no small task - he's such a beast) that's tied to Hannah's play yard on the grass, leave him for a few minutes and hope/pray he pees and goes poop. Neither of which we have seen. Until yesterday. He refuses to do his business while we hold him on the leash. He looks at us like, "Well, go on. I have some dignity, you know." So yesterday morning, we woke up to pee on the floor. Great. And then again that day, after I tied him up and wished him luck, he "Houdini'ed" his way out of his leash, harness, and plastic bonnet. So he finally went #2. I guess we all have our standards.

To add to the fun, we have to clean his paw at least once a day. Jason wrestles him to the ground while I flush his wound, soak it in some warm water with Epsom salt, and then lovingly apply some ointment.

At least he earns his keep. He has a mean bark and can look ferocious when he wants to, making an excellent guard dog. And Hannah could yank his tongue out of his mouth and he'll just lay there with his tail wagging. Oh the poor, dumb mutt.