A few days after our misguided trip to the vet for my flattened ear, we had another mishap.  This time, Momma was absentmindedly throwing the ball for me to fetch when it glanced off the wall and struck me in the eye.  Although it wasn’t a hard hit, it hurt like heck I could only open the eye partway.  Momma didn’t like the look of it, but she decided not to rush me to the vet.  (The fact that we would not be going to the weekend emergency hospital where Dr. Varny works also may have factored into her decision, but I’m not going to point any paws.)

Anyway Momma was in no mood to be ridiculed – and to spend $150 if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.  “Just lie down and close your eyes for a while, Lina,” she encouraged.  I did, and amazingly my eye seemed better when I woke up – at least I could hold it open!  Momma was thrilled – she was actually a little scared that another injury to me within a couple of weeks might raise a red flag with some “watchdog” group (pun intended).

By the next morning, however, my eye seemed worse – squinty and pink, and Momma rushed me to our regular doggie clinic.  Luckily, there was no scratch so the (female) vet just prescribed some eye drops and sent us home ($110.00 poorer).

I may have mentioned that my BFF in Florida is Gracie.  She lives in our building and I adore her.  Here we are on one of our almost daily play dates:

As we were driving home from the vet after the eye injury, Gracie’s momma, Anne, called and asked if we could play.  I looked at Momma beseechingly (with one eye) so she called the vet who gave us permission, with the caveat – “but keep the rough-housing to a minimum!”

Right, like that was going to happen.  Here is an example of Gracie and me playing, but not “ruff”-housing:

Anyway, we had the ill-advised play date, and as expected, my eye was re-injured requiring Momma to bring me in again.  (Now she really was getting nervous about the authorities.  She also noticed that the staff at the vet’s office was not as friendly to her as on previous visits.)  Although there was still no scratch in my eye, we left the clinic with specific instructions –  no play dates for four to five days!  Momma was sure she was on some kind of watch list now.  She was also $65.00 poorer.

By day four, Momma was getting a little tired of me being underfoot all the time so she told Anne that I was good to go.  We met her and Gracie out on the lawn for our long-awaited play date.  After a few minutes, Momma went inside to get her cell phone (and ostensibly some doggie toys) and left Anne to watch both of us.  While she was gone, the twig I was chewing on got lodged crossways in the back of my mouth causing me to gag and flail about.  Anne was frantic – I was clearly in distress.  When Momma saw me, she ran back inside to get the car keys.

By the time we got loaded, I had somehow expelled the stick, but now things were in motion and they decided it was still a good idea to get me checked over.  Momma begged Anne to go along for support (and so Momma could identify her as the caretaker when this latest injury occurred), so she and Gracie rode shotgun.

Upon our arrival, the tech whisked me into an exam room (and pointedly told Momma to stay in the waiting room).  When I was gone, she hiss-whispered to Anne, “They better not charge me for this visit – the stick was gone after all and I’ve already spent a fortune here!”

After a few short minutes, the doc (this was the seasoned, handsome vet she tried to impress on our first visit to the clinic last year), brought me back out to the waiting room.  After carefully scrutinizing Momma (four injuries in less than a month??), he informed her that there were scratches in my mouth, but no stick and I was fine.

Momma, sensing that she was being eyed with suspicion, immediately pointed to Anne and said that she had been supervising a play date when I choked.  Anne (always the grown up of the two), graciously and unnecessarily shouldered the blame and apologized that I was hurt on her watch.  At that point, the vet must have decided that I didn’t have to be taken into protective custody because he let me go home with Momma, but not without paying.  Ouch!

The next day, Anne (she was pretty much co-parenting me by this time) suggested that Gracie and I have an indoor play date – where I would be safer.  Momma thought this was a great idea and told her to bring Gracie up to our place – after ten play dates at Anne’s, she figured it might be her turn.  Gracie and I had another rol”licking” good time, but once again had a little too much fun and now my other eye was hurt and half shut.  When Momma saw it, she practically cried – there was NO WAY she was taking me to the vet again.  She would be locked up.  Instead, relying on a lick (mine) and a prayer (hers), she put some of those drops in my eye and it healed!

Lina, Down (Dog) But Not Out!

WOOFDA!