Of Dogs and Rabbits

Some exciting happenings around the ol' Smoz household the other night. Let us open the storybook to read through the climactic events of the evening:

Near dusk, our rotund leading lady Niel is out walking with her dashingly handsome husband. For the sake of literary drama, let us call this man "Nicholas". Between them trots a pure mixed-breed canine, Sheeba-the-Wonder-Dog. Suddenly, out of the thin rays of fading sunlight, screams forth a fuzzy bunny. It's clear from the glint in this rabbit's eye that it is plauged with rabid intent, and determined to attack the throat of our vunerable, pregnant protagonist, Niel.

Sheeba-the-Wonder-Dog hears the shriek of pure terror from her owner, and responds with a call to action not seen since the days of lore. Muscles taut, Sheeba explodes with a fury of protective determination. Sheeba races to confront the sick beast head-on, and immediately a life and death battle of animal survival ensues.

With strength borne of sheer love and protection, Sheeba gains the upper-hand on the blindly fighting animal. A chase ensues, and Sheeba races through the thick underbrush to ensure the rabbit is far from her beloved owner.

Scared yet? Me too.

Sheeba comes limping out of the thick foliage towards her grateful human companions. Quickly, our leading couple realizes that something has gone horribly wrong. The bunny has gotten ahold of Sheeba at some point during the vicious struggle, and sunk his deep, pointed fangs into her soft webbed footing.

Dragging her limp, torn paw, Sheeba leads her owners on the still-fraught-with-danger path home. Walking into their door with relief, they all cried for the realization that they could never feel truly safe again. Because somewhere, living deep within the shadows between fear and unease, lived the rabbit. He had had a taste of blood. And he would be forever hungry for more.

Story Possibility #2:



We took Sheeba out for her nighttime walk, and as usual she saw a bunny in the neighborhood and her chase instinct kicked in. The bunny ran in abject terror through someone's front yard, and Sheeba went racing off after it. Mid-pursuit, we think Sheeba stepped on some uncovered metal edging and sliced the bottom of her back paw open between the pads of her toes. She never acted like it hurt, but once she got back on the cement we realized she was pooling out blood like a crime scene. We were about a mile away from home, so we had to walk her all the way back, leaving a distinct Hansel and Gretel trail of blood behind us. Once we got home I put compression on her foot for about 20 minutes and thought I had gotten it stopped, only to have her stand up and immediately bleed through a band-aid and ace bandage I had wrapped her paw with. Since it obviously wasn't clotting, it was time to pull out the big guns, so I dumped corn starch all over it (note to dog owners: always keep corns starch on hand - it will immediately cauterize any deep cut on your dog's paws), wrapped it in one of Nick's old socks, and made her lay down the rest of the night. Sheeba seemed compeltely non-plussed by the entire experience, and was just happy that she got to eat basically an entire package of cheese since Nick and I felt bad for her. The End.

Bloody pawprints that marked the exact trail we took home. And yeah, they're still all there. Sorry neighbors!

The patient. She just looks like she's in excruciating pain, no? If you're wondering what she's staring at, it's more cheese. Probably her 74th slice or so at this point.

Surgical supplies. Yes, there are pantiliners there. They soak up blood great - don't judge.

My co-surgeon. Just call him Dr. Cheese Feeder.

Bandage attempt #1 - promptly bled through in about .14 seconds upon standing.

The final, successful solution.