You may remember that a few months ago, me and Buddy got into a bit of trouble over the neighbors' chickens. Ever since, although it upsets them to do it, Mom and Dad make us stay in our crates when they are not going to be home.
Today our folks had to leave us for awhile and they crated us. When they came back, they found my crate in the middle of the dog den floor. And the top of my snout was raw and bloody. I had bent the wire door of my crate
trying to get out of it. Mom let me out and Dad cleaned up the mess I'd made.
Then Mom put me in the shower and rinsed me off. She put some Neosporin on my nose. I am not sure what's coming next but I suspect some of that colloidal silver spray stuff.
Mom called our neighbor and asked if she knew whether anything unusual happened around here today. Mrs. Neighbor said, "Yes."
A strange man walked down our road today. He had a shotgun and he was shooting it. At squirrels. Shooting at little squirrels with a big shotgun. Some great hunter, huh?
ANYhowl, Mom and Dad figure that the sound of the shotgun must've upset me. That's why I thrashed around enough to move my crate to the middle of the room and why I knocked the fur and skin off my nose.
Mom took a couple of pickshures to show you. She will be putting that antibiotic ointment on me again in a little while.
I will be okay. But I had a bad day.