Well, there is a stink bomb in my house. His name is Jack. He is as obedient as a 7th grade boy with a mind on malodorous clandestine contrivances. That dog knows how to get the worst essences of The Prairie to ingrain themselves deeply into his hide and linger for weeks. The Nephew and I actually coined a new color this week in honor of Jack: Dinge.
Although smelly and dingy, Jack is doing well. He has healed up so fast and I am relieved. The vet said he would lick that wound into healing and that he has. Here he is "self-medicating":
See how well he's healing? It's only been two weeks.
We have two cats. Fluffy, a big black Diva lives predominately in the garage. She is a whole lot of friend and fiest wrapped up into one huge ball of black hair. Once upon a time she and The Prairie Kid were friends. That ended a few months ago when they had a big fight and Fluffy's Fiest overshadowed her Friend and left The Prairie Kid's foot bleeding with nasty claw marks.
Our other cat is Spaz. She lives under the deck. Spaz is a cute little product of our old lovable cat, Tara. Except Tara was too busy looking for a Tom and forgot to teach Spaz that lovable part and Spaz ended up with Fear instead (see what happens when we don't train our children up in the way they should go?). She is so lonely and wants so bad to have companionship but she just refuses to let Fear go and let us love her. And it is super sad that Fluffy's Fiest gets bored and decides to go under the deck and torment Spaz. Poor thing.
Spaz has decided to try to fill her relational bucket through Stink Bomb though. I don't know, maybe that Essence is romantic and enticing to a feline. Gross. So I caught the two of them this morning on the deck. Jack isn't so sure about Spaz but he's tolerating her long enough that she gets a few good paces of contact as she rubs back and forth on his chest.