Skip to main content

bad mommy

Sunday morning I woke to the cries of coyotes. That maniacal yipping is hard to locate, but I know I waited a long time before I let Cassie out, because it was dark when I heard the coyotes and full daylight when I let Cassie out. When I heard her barking I knew something was wrong. By the time I got outside she was on the other side of the wall, scattering a pack of coyotes in all different directions. I saw at least five of them. She came back to the house immediately when I called, and I checked her for injury. Didn't I check well enough? Look at her here. I took this picture after I came home from church, before we took Jack to a birthday party.

When we got back from the party we found that Cassie had taken an empty peanut butter jar we'd given her earlier and forgot to take away, and cleaned it out while on Jack's bed. Naughty dog! There were some spots of blood on the pillow she'd been laying on. I assumed she'd cut her gums or lips slightly while licking out the jar, trying to chew the sides down to get to the peanut butter on the bottom. Anyway, it was our fault that we didn't take the jar away from her. Then I took Cassie on a three-mile walk. At home, late evening, David and Jack played the Chasing Game with her in the backyard, and Dave threw a frisbee for her. We went to bed early.

When I got up this morning Cassie did too, and followed me around slowly, sort of mincing. I petted her thoroughly and discovered a bloody patch on her left side, low and close to her back leg. Looked like two puncture wounds to me. I immediately leapt to the conclusion that she hadn't escaped her coyote encounter unscathed. But how had it escaped my attention for a full 24 hours? How had she managed a three-mile walk with me, then some high-intensity chasing with the boys in the back yard?

David took her to the vet this morning. The doc gave her five stitches and told Dave that the wound didn't look to her like a bite. Sure looks like a bite to me. But if Cassie didn't get bitten, how did she get a laceration requiring 5 stitches? How did I not notice it? A bite is the most logical explanation, but wouldn't it be visible in the picture I took after church?

Cassie's all groggy from the anesthetic and it's just breaking my heart. And I can't know how Cassie got injured. When did it happen? Why didn't I notice? I can't work it out in my head, but the coyote encounter and the blood on the pillow make me think she got a coyote bite. But how did she manage all that activity on Sunday afternoon, after the bite would have occurred? What are the other possibilities?

I just can't forgive myself.


Gnightgirl said…
Maybe she ate my camera, and it's working its way out. No wonder I can't find it.

All kidding aside, poor baby Cassie. Hope she feels better soon.
Momma_Dee said…
Don't be so hard on yourself. That Cass is such a trooper. I feel like it must have been the coyote encounter and it probably just stiffened up. You know Cassie would do anything to go for a walk. Her pictures sure are cute anyway. She's such a sweet girl.
anita said…
I don't know about Cassie, but my cats are REALLY good about hiding injuries if they aren't too awfully bad. They just hate to be messed with unless it's hurting them a lot. So don't blame yourself.

Popular posts from this blog

wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.

expanding my culinary horizons

After last night's culinary debacle, today's culinary surprise was particularly welcome. My dear friend Rukmi brought me lunch! Rukmi is Sri Lankan. She cooks the best food. I ate a fish and egg croquette, lentil curry, saffron rice, all with delicious chicken and what I thought might be tuna. I asked Rukmi what the meat was, and she told me it's all chicken. "The flat, triangular meat? With the spices? Is it tuna?"

She laughed lightly. "That's a wegetable," she said, in her lovely Sinhalese way.

"Oh, yeah? Like a beet?" That made sense, because it flaked like tuna steak or like beets might.

"It is jackfruit."

Jackfruit? Jackfruit! I ate jackfruit today. Rukmi told me all about it: she used canned young jackfruit she bought at G & L Market on 22nd St.; fully grown jackfruits are gigantic and if one fell on your head it could kill you. When fully ripe, jackfruit is full of big pods that each have a seed in the middle, like a po…

the more things change...

So many reasons it's been a long time since we took the boys out thrift store shopping. Yesterday, Tuesday, both of us had a full day off to spend as we pleased.

First we ate at Chaffin's Diner. They seated us in the less-dinery back room, which ended up being a good thing because we sat directly beneath a fan and didn't notice so much the heat. E drank decaff coffee with cream. I didn't notice sugar. Decaff, like his Uncle D. Coffee, like his Mimi.

We hit Shop for a Cause first, where the boys found nothing and subsequently sulked.

Next we pulled into the Humane Society Thrift Store, which I haven't visited in a long time. Historically I haven't found anything there.

Today we hit the treasure jackpot.

A $2 Ziploc bag containing the comprehensive plastic presidential contingent from Washington through Eisenhower.

Of course E had them ordered in a matter of moments.

Finally we escaped the store with a trove of treasures (more than I've found in one place in …