Wednesday, June 20, 2012


I don't remember exactly when Smokey and Tank became bitter, fight-to-the-death enemies. It's something that has escalated gradually. At some point their animosity towards each other turned into a trip to the doggy ER. Then, another. That makes one each; both eye injuries. Smokey has a scratch on his cornea. Then, early on Father's day, I got a pretty good bite trying to break them up. It was a fairly deep slice to the index finger. We almost had our first trip to the human ER. It was a close call, and hopefully I made the right choice not to run up a huge medical bill.

So, here I am, a few days later noticing that the cut is no longer bleeding through the bandage. I type for a living, so an injured finger tip is slightly less than fun. It doesn't hurt as much now. The first night, it was four shots of Tequila just to be able to clean it out with peroxide and a syringe.

It took Zoey a good couple days before she would let Smokey anywhere near her without flipping out. She definitely has her mama's crazy gene. Seeing the boys fight makes her wig.

Tank has a tiny muzzle. I'm thinking of getting another one and letting the boys work it out with the muzzles on. I am a problem solver, and this is a problem.

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