In the interest of starting a story in the middle as my Mom used to, I will begin by saying that both my dogs are alive and (relatively) well. I worked my horse and one other at the barn last night after work, so didn’t head home from there until about 6:00. On the way home, I got a call from a man calling himself Dr. Smith. He asked me if I own a dog named Art. (Kirby’s shelter name was Art.) I said, “Yes, my Westie used to be called Art, but I’ve changed his name.” He said, “Yes, this is a neutered male Westie. He’s OK, but the woman that brought him in said he got hit by a car. He’s got abrasions and bruising on his tongue, he had a bloody nose, and he appears to have some pain in his right front foot.” I am freaking out by this time of course. I said, “Did the person who brought him in see a little black dog with him?” He told me that she mentioned a little black dog, that she thought got hit (didn’t see it, but heard her yelp) but the little black dog ran from her and she couldn’t catch her. So I got to the vet’s office, retrieved a very depressed, shocked appearing Kirby and thanked the VERY NICE vet, who didn’t even charge me for the treatment! I got home, fed him, let the boys know what happened and that Celeste was still missing. I called her and called her last night, to no avail. I was pretty sure she was dead. Then, this morning I got up and let Kirby out to pee (he won’t leave the yard if I’m there) and when he came back in and I fed him his breakfast, I went to the front door just to check and who was at the front door? Celeste! Soaking wet, but apparently no worse for wear! She spent all morning glaring at me as though I was evil for leaving her out in the rain all night! Typical Schipperke. Anyone want to donate to poor Vivs new fence fund? Sigh...
Posted on: Fri, 05 Dec 2014 15:54:56 +0000