I am not good in emergencies

The most bizarre thing happened tonight.

Our sweet little dog Jake was bitten by some kinda wild dog. We had to rush him to an emergency veterinary clinic, where they cleaned out four really big puncture wounds — two on each side of his little chest. Basically, it looks like this thing tried to pick him up from above.

I suppose that we’re lucky that the dog or coyote or whatever didn’t run off with the little guy. Poor Jake!

This is really bizarre, because we live less than half a mile away from a five-lane beltway! But we’ve seen the coyote before, in broad daylight no less. Plus, we’ve found scary bunny heads in our backyard too.

We’re going to call Animal Control tomorrow to see if there’s anything they can do. Other than just being concerned about our too-brave little herd of dachshunds, I’m worried about Auggie too. I mean, this is a big dog. You should see the size of the holes in little Jake! (Sorry, I should stop calling him that. It makes him sound like a character in a Louisa May Alcott novel.)

The vet was really nice to Jake (Won’t. Say. Little.). They shaved the hair around the wounds, cleaned them out really well and gave him shots of antibiotic and pain medication. They didn’t even charge us the $65 emergency fee that they said they would. Nice.

Of course, all this happened after we got home from an impromptu trip to the mall and Auggie was pretty much ready for bed. Plus, we’d been working all afternoon, raking leaves and organizing closets and such. Why, oh why, did I have to look for chinos tonight? I didn’t even find a pair that I liked! Oh, sure, Beth, you’ve lost 15 pounds, so now you deserve some new chinos. Oh yeah…

It’s all my fault that little Jake is hurt. If we had just stayed home, he might not have been outside when that evil coyote was.

I suck.