Hubby woke me up this morning with, "Did you turn the heat off last night? Because it's fifty four degrees downstairs." Uh, what? Apparently our oil, which was supposed to last easily until next Friday when we have a delivery scheduled, ran the fuck out. And then, when Hubby tried refilling it with emergency back up oil, the reset switch was all, "I quit."
So now it's really cold downstairs (The upstairs is heated with electric baseboard heating, thank god.) while we wait for someone to come and fix that situation.
About twenty minutes later, Hubby comes BACK to the bedroom where I'm trying to sleep in under the warmth of covers, cats, and a heated room to announce, "I need you to come look at something. I ran over Emily."
Now, my little Pig Dog is not the smartest dog on earth.
|i mean, this is her in a nutshell.|
And she is a Heeler, so heeling things comes naturally to her. She was apparently chasing the tires as Hubby was backing up and got her face bashed. To be fair to Hubby, I ran over the Kelpie the first week we moved to PA because she was also heeling my tires and I didn't see her. That resulted in a four figures vet bill by the time she was done with her two-days-a-week visits to the vet.
I swear, we are the worst parents ever.
I go outside and Pig is happily trying to wiggle out of Hubby's brother's arms with blood pouring from her nose. Immediately assuming she's bleeding somewhere internally and she's about to die on our back porch, we load her in the car and speed down the the closest vet clinic.
She merrily trots into the clinic where I tell the receptionist my dog has been hit, and she needs to see a vet. The receptionist informs me that while they are open, the vet doesn't come in until 10. It's about 8:30 at this point. However, she was super nice and called the vet, relaying the situation to her, and the vet said she was on her way.
|meanwhile, dumb-dumb is like this in the waiting room,|
only splattering blood all over the floor.
About thirty minutes later, Pig's nose is just trickling blood, although she keeps sneezing it everywhere, her muzzle is swollen twice its normal size, and the vet finally whisks her off for a thorough exam to make sure we haven't killed her.
Fortunately, she got off really easily. Or as easily as she could have for a dog hit by a truck. The blood from her nose was from multiple ruptured blood vessels. She loosened a top canine and got a cut in the gum above that tooth, cut up the top of her jaw, and her lower jaw was a little wigglier than was normal. However, no damage to the rest of her body, and the vet said everything on her face should heal completely within the next couple of days.
Best of all? It only cost us $54, which included a Rabies shot she was due for at the end of the month anyway. In the meantime, she's enjoying being fawned over, fed softened food, and getting to prance around the house in her blanket while we wait for the heat to come back on.
|happiest dog on the planet, no matter what the situation.|
So Bobby. We're supposed to get a massive dumping of snow tonight, and it's just started coming down in earnest. Anything you'd like to do to add to today's fun? I'd love to trudge out on unplowed roads for an emergency vet call.