Ah, a familiar theme. Serves me right for commenting last week that it had been six months since Bruno had been to the vet. A record in his 21-month life. This dog is beyond accident prone and troublesome – to the extent that the entire staff at the vet’s office knows him by name.
A lot of his escapades are documented in this blog:
But there really have been too many to count. And recount. Which leads us to today.
As Jim and I were about to go out to breakfast, Jim was petting Bruno when he (Bruno) let out a yelp and Jim realized his hands had blood on them. We realized he had somehow gotten a big gash on his side. It was pretty deep and I knew that we would be trading pancake plans for a morning at Banfield.
I know people think it’s ridiculous to spend this kind of money on dogs. I know. But A) this is nothing compared to previous vet bills to fix broken paw and extract half-digested Halloween wig, and B) I love this dog. Too much. I’d do anything for him.
Even if he does cost more than a bachelor’s degree.