Blue

Saturday I was buzzing like a bee, and here's the reason why:

If you're a coffee lover, like I am, this a treat. "La Bibita Di Solo Caffe" means that the soda drink contains only straight coffee, and of course sugar and carbonation. My sweet hubby picked this up at the Italian food store in town; after what happened earlier that morning, he knew I needed it.

My poor Husky, Blue, had a heck of a week, and it wasn't getting any better for him. On Monday, I looked out my front door and saw my elderly neighbor running his hands over my dog's muscular body. Like a race horse out of a starting gate, I flung the door open and stepped out on the porch. Startled, my neighbor jerked his head up and glanced briefly at me before turning his attention back to the dog.

"Uh. . .Debbie. . .I hate to tell you this," he said in voice choked with emotion, "but I accidentally ran over Blue with the tractor. I'm sorry."

I staggered backwards and leaned against the house for support. I felt like I'd gone ten rounds with a prizefighter. I'd lost a dog when I was a teen to a similar fate, and since then had never let myself get close to another dog, not until Blue. You idiot! I chastised myself You let yourself get attached to another dog, and look what happened. I took a moment before replying, blinking furiously to keep back the tears that burned like fire behind my eyelids and threatened to fall at any minute.

"It's not your fault," I said shakily. On rubbery legs, I walked over to my dog, my canine "baby", took his large head in my hands and stared deep into the ice-blue eyes. They were clear and unclouded, completely free of pain. A tiny flame of hope ignited in me, and burned stronger when Blue sat and offered to shake hands. Relieved my neighbor left and asked me to keep him posted. That was MONDAY, and the pooch was fine until Thursday.

Late Thursday afternoon, my cowgirl skills payed off when the dog hobbled up on three legs. He had a cactus thorn in his front paw, and it took Seth and myself to take a dog, the size of a miniture horse, off his feet and remove the thorn. Blue sang his misery to the world as Seth held him down and I worked to remove the thorn. After it was removed, our prisoner took off, without so much as a tailwag. Hmph. That's gratitude.

Now. . .finally to Saturday.

I walked out on the porch with my coffee and was greeted by my dog, or who I thought was my dog. Blue's face was twice it's size, his eyes swollen shut. Ever the curious canine, he had stuck his nosy snout into a ground-level wasp's nest and been zapped by an indignant occupant. A quick call to our vet resulted in Blue taking two Benedryl tablets a day for a week.

I guess Murphy's Law applies to dogs too.