Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Crime Scene

This evening, we were again were witnesses to the horror that can occur when one shares their life with greyhounds. I'm sure it could happen with any dog, but I have to confess, we never had scenes like this with any of the dogs I grew up with as a child. The dogs I grew up with had the good grace to be dogs outside, it appears. That, or I was blissfully unaware of what they did in my youth. It's a tough call on that one. In any event, I should warn you, this was a gruesome scene. So, cover the kids' eyes, distract grandma and put down anything you might be eating before you go on.

So, here we are at the scene of the crime. You might notice the blood. That's right, blood all over our freshly cleaned living room carpet. Not only the carpet, but all three dog beds that were scattered about the living room as well. Thank heaven we had the baby gate up, or I'm sure the carnage would have spread to the bedroom, the bathroom, the hallway and maybe even the guestroom. Of course the easily-cleaned linoleum in the kitchen was spared. I've found dogs are considerate that way. Why they always help out that way is a mystery to me. Never ever will one of them throw up in the kitchen. It always has to be in a high-traffic area where everyone will see the remains for months if you don't diligently scrub it. For this job, I considered hiring Sunshine Cleaners. I'm sure they could handle something this bloody. I mean, if they can clean up murder sites, this is up their alley.

By now, I'm sure you're wondering what actually transpired in my living room this evening. You won't hear about it on the six o'clock news. Only because I didn't call them. My husband was out getting picture frames this evening and I was enjoying a quiet night at home. The dogs were laying about until they heard the sound of the car arrive home. Minutes later, my husband entered the house and instead of his friendly greeting, I heard him ask me a question.

Husband: What is that? Did somebody eat something?
Me, looking up in confusion: No, they've all been -- What the hell?
(I'm sure you can sense the moment when I saw the bloody scene.)

Hawk: You're home! Take me out! She never takes me out! I need to go out NOW!

Blueberry: I've been perfect all day. Why are you yelling?

Bunny: You're home! I know you came home to pet me! Pet me! Pet me! Pet me!

Lilac: What's all the fuss about?

We look around and discover that, sure enough, Lilac has broken another toe nail and is now pacing all over the living room. Husband gets out the gauze and vet wrap and as soon as she sees him, she begins pacing in earnest. Her time to redecorate the living room is limited and she knows it. After a brief skirmish between her and my husband that involves a fair amount of swearing in both English and dog glares, three attempts at bandaging and a kicking move that the dog can do remarkably well for her age at just the right moment to prevent the bandaging job from happening, it is finished. Husband begins spraying carpet cleaner on the bloody spots and the dog goes to the only remaining dog bed and lays down with a disgusted sigh. Hawk decides that he can't wait any longer and raises his tail, resulting in a shout from Husband that sends the three non-offenders to the back door with wagging tails. So, he takes them out as I lug the steam cleaner up from the basement to begin the cleaning.

The dogs are brought back in and Lilac sneaks in the crate to claim the only dog bed with a cover. Blueberry takes over the pile of dog beds without covers and Bunny heads for the couch. Hawk paces in nervous agitation as I run the noisy machine. Noise freaks him out. When the steam cleaner gets too close to Blueberry, she jumps up and goes to the kitchen. After she gulps down a huge amount of water, she returns to the living room to throw it up. Apparently I didn't have enough cleaning to do.

As I continue cleaning, Hawk, still nervous and pacing, begins to lift his tail again. Some more swear words are grumbled by husband who drags the poor dog back outside. Lilac now lies like the Queen of Sheba on the only dog bed. Blueberry has taken over our bed and Bunny is waiting on the couch, content with the knowledge that soon I will stop running the steam cleaner and sit down to pet her.

All this over a toenail.


  1. I like your taste in bandages Lilac! That bandage is pink! Where on earth did you find such a bandage Lilac?! Lilac, you would look fabulous with pink toenail polish! I would say!
    I hope your new toenail is better than the last one! Heal up girlfriend!

  2. Such is the life of a greyhound mom! Clive split his tail open on Thanksgiving day at my mom's house...blood EVERYWHERE. Walls, floors, doors, furniture....

  3. Lilac tends to wear purple, but the pink bandages do match the collar she's wearing at the moment. Right now, with the SLO, we don't paint her nails. She's very sensitive about her feet.

    Oh, nothing bleeds more than a split tail!


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