Daily Dose of Cute

[Content Note: This post contains a description of a minor injury with some blood loss.]

image of Dudley the Greyhound, looking sheepish
"Oops, I did it again."

Dudley, who cannot go a single day of his life without injuring himself, came back into the house from his midday romp in the yard yesterday with his front right foot bleeding mightily. He wasn't limping, but his white paw was stained red, and he left red pawprints on the wood floor, on the white rug, on the couch as he bounded excitedly around the living room, because he hadn't seen it in at least 15 minutes.

I called him over to investigate whatever it was he'd done this time and discovered he'd broken his dew claw right up against his leg. The claw was still there, bent backwards and clinging on like a baby tooth, the quick exposed and bleeding. A bit nasty, but I was relieved it wasn't something worse.

While Dudley happily splattered blood around the room, I went to the kitchen to get the nail clippers and assorted cleaning stuff. The trick was then to separate Dudz and Zelly into separate rooms, because they get very anxious when the other's in distress, and I didn't need her sticking her nose into the surgery.

I gave Dudz a High Value TreatTM, and he went racing down the hall to the office, then gave one to Zelly, who plopped down in the middle of the living room floor to have at it. I zipped down the hall and managed to close the office door just before Zelly got there. Dudley looked at me suspiciously from his pillow. "Come here and let me look at that paw," I said.

He got up and came over, giving me his paw with this look that seemed to say, "Thanks, Two-Legs. I know this is going to suck, but I'm going to try to behave."

I clipped off the lingering nail and he gave a single sharp YIP! and then it was over. I washed it out with soap and water, then rinsed it with peroxide. "All done," I said, and let his paw go. He tumbled toward me in a big greyhound lean and lifted his nose up with a grin, licking my chin.

Once I'd administered sufficient cuddles, I left to dispose of the wet towels, only to find Zelda lying pitiably on the floor on her side, licking one of Dudley's bloody pawprints and looking miserable.

Zelly lying on the floor, licking her nose

"He's fine," I said. She jumped up and ran to the office. When I returned, Dudley was lying on his bed, and Zelly was sniffing his paw and licking him. Omigosh I was so worried about you! I'm so glad you're okay! Here, let me lick that for you! This will make you all better!

I told them they were good dogs and returned to the living room to clean up red pawprints from everything. They soon joined me, Dudley assuming the convalescing position and Zelly standing guard.

Dudley lies on the couch with Zelda sitting on the floor directly in front

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