Ouch!

Mom's feeling a little queasy and maybe a little guilty too.

TBG (The Big Guy, in Zeldaspeak) let us out for our evening potty break and when I came five minutes later I was bleeding. Mom and TBG cleaned me up and found I had a cut on my right foreleg.

(I haven't told them what I did, and I don't think I'm going to. It's more fun to watch AlphaMom feel guilty.)

It stopped bleeding quickly, so Mom thought it was okay and put some gooey stuff that kills bad bugs on it and wrapped it up and tucked me in for the night. It felt fine (although I chewed off my bandage) and she kept me kinda quiet the next day. Then Daddy threw a ball and I wanted to get it before Zelda did. Zelda didn't have a chance, 'cause I'm so speedy, but Mom got upset because my leg started bleeding worse than before. I'm glad she gave Dad The Look, not me. Anyway, I'm tough, but my leg hurt and I was glad to have Mom carry me and put on a new bandage.

She knew it wasn't quite bad enough to require stitches, but she thought it might heal better if it did, and just couldn't make up her mind. I notice her wince when she looks at my cut and I knew she regrets not taking me to see Dr. Mark. It feels better and I'm playing and running lots when she's not looking. Mom hasn't taken me for a walk or thrown my frisbee or gotten me to jump in sooooo long. I wanted her to take a picture of my leg for this post, but she got that funny look on her face.

Come on, Mom, it's just a little cut and it probably won't leave a bad scar at all...uh, she got that look again.

(sigh) I wish she's get over it. I want to start training and earning clicker treats again. Maybe if I stop licking it and demonstrate some border collie zoomies in the backyard, she'll get the hint.