Sorta Back to Normal

Things are kinda, sorta, back to normal after a week when our youngest border collie, Nick, nearly died from eating an illicit chicken, and the cat, Elvis, nearly passed on from a hairball infestation. We also drove to Potsdam, had several inches of pounding rain, and went generally crazy every day....There were other stories too, harder and sadder than anything here, but not mine to tell.

The stupid chicken flew over a 6-foot chain link fence to offer herself up to Nick. How could he refuse? And of course, from the evidence left in the run, she was one of the ones that is laying eggs. I have no idea what eating raw, boneful, featherous chicken does to a nine year old dog who normally consumes only dog food, but I can tell you it isn't good. At one point he would only stand up to go outside if I begged him.

We nursed him tenderly, even went so far as to dose him with the cat's hairball medicine. Tablespoons full of raw beef. Rice and milk. Checking in the middle of the night. Beaucoup de petting. I am right fond of that dog. He is such a bad boy that he has to spend a lot of time in the kennel, because killing Mike his high on his agenda and all the cats are just a little lower on the list. On the other hand he is obedient and eager to please and sweet and great company when he isn't raising Hell.

At any rate he stood up from what looked like his last and ate a couple of bites of dog food Thursday. By Saturday he ASKED to go to his run to get some exercise and bark at cats. Today he seems completely normal and is eating ravenously to make up for lost time, snapping up bites from Mike's dish on his way out the door.

Please, chickens, you have hundreds of acres to scratch around on...stay OUT of the kennel.

Elvis is mending too.....despite my inept application of hairball medicine and several set backs.

Now we just have to get used to Becky being gone and Alan back to class

Oh, and the fair opens tomorrow too.