Change of Profession

On Friday as I called Harley into the house, I noticed he had killed a squirrel and, well, I'll spare the details. As proud I was of him killing one of those squirrels that mercilessly tease him all the time, it is rather disgusting for him to be chewing on it. As he came across the back patio, blood dripped from him. Believing it to be from the squirrel, I made him sit hoping it would all drip out. That was probably the grossest sentence I have written. Anyway, I quickly discovered it was not squirrel blood but rather blood from nasty cuts on his throat. In the fight, Harley v. Rocky (our name for squirrels), the squirrel scratched him repeatedly.

Long story short, I tried to put a bandage on it and wrap it up with an ace bandage. Because of where it was on his neck, the ace bandage didn't stay and I soon discovered blood all over our carpet. Realizing this was out of my control, I took him to the vet who decided to keep him so he could be sedated so the wound could be cleaned out.

Elianna, though she loves a dramatic good story to be told over and over, was so upset and crying that she "wanted her dog." I pity the day Harley dies. She will be in a terrible state, but who's talking? I probably would be too. But he is not dead yet. As my sister-in-law put it "that poor dog must have 9 lives like a cat!" Tis true Sydney - tis true!

Thankfully he is ok and has stopped bleeding. The doctor couldn't do much for him because of where the injury was but gave him pain meds and antibiotics. Life #3.

Which brings me to the title of the post. I'm thinking that with all of Harley's injuries, I should become a vet. Or with all the blood I cleaned up from the carpet and wall (he decided to shake splattering blood all over the wall), to be a crime scene cleaner. Or maybe just stay home and take care of my family. I think I'll go with the last one.

The initial ace bandage that didn't work