Recently, I’ve been injured a lot by some of the cutest dogs you’ll ever meet. See all that cuteness?
Dangerous to my body, I tell you!
Yes, by my own dog*. If I hadn’t taken the photo with my cell phone’s crappy camera, I’d show you the glorious shades of purple and green that one bite from a Lab will give you. It’s truly a sight to behold. The bite wasn’t really that bad – no stitches required. But the bruise! I didn’t know my body could produce those colors!
Most of the time, it’s my fingers that get bitten. It’s what happens when you’re giving your dog a tiny treat and she wants it really, really badly. Nip! I’ve almost learned to toss the treats instead of letting them take them from my hands. Almost.
I’m not sure which is worse, paws with nails that need to be trimmed, or paws with freshly-trimmed nails. B’Elanna has this routine where she runs out full-speed when I open her crate door, then turns around and runs straight back to me and jumps up on my legs like, “Ohmygosh! I forgot to say ‘hi’, Mommy! I’m so excited to see you!! Wheeeee!!!!!” She makes me laugh every single day. Except the first few days after she gets groomed. That kinda hurts, even through clothing. She is completely unfazed by this, of course.
Frankie thinks he’s part Boxer these days. You know how Boxers whack everything with their paws? That’s the Frankfurter. He especially likes to whack my legs. And my hands. And my feet. When I’m wearing sandals. Honestly, it took the better part of a year for me to teach Ginny that she could touch me with her paws, but only if she did it gently. So, patience with Frankie will pay off. In the meantime, I’m keeping the Neosporin handy.
The undisputed queen of injuring Mommy is none other than this girl.
Here’s what she does: She crawls up into my lap and sits half upright, almost like a person. Then I rub her belly and scratch her butt. And then she gets very excited. Now, remember, Chassie is my Tigger-dog. She gets VERY excited. And then she dips her head under my chin and starts rubbing her head against me. Hard. Sometimes, she gets so enthusiastic with this rubbing that she whacks me in the jaw.
Yeah. It’s just about that much fun. Which she doesn’t understand, so she keeps it up until I cry uncle. Most of the time, something distracts her and she jumps down before she hurts me too badly. Why, then, do I let her do it? I’m telling you, it’s just too darn cute for words! So, I try to mitigate the damage and am usually pretty successful.
Not so much last week. We had our chair lovefest. Chass-a-roo bonked me in the face.
Then, she was jumping up to get a treat (yes, she was supposed to be jumping up), and bonked me in the face. (And probably nipped my fingers, too, but who’s counting?)
Then, when I was bending down to pick up Frankie’s bowl, she saw something in his crate she wanted to check out. So, of course, she rammed her body into the six inches between me and the crate. But then she decided that, nah, it wasn’t worth checking out and withdrew just as quickly. Her head was coming up while mine was still going down. Of course. Whack! Right under the chin, so hard my teeth cracked together.
I am certain that my chiropractor will laugh out loud when I tell him that this week, I know exactly why my jaw isn’t in its assigned slot!
Oh, by the way, when you have a bloody lip, it’s not a good idea to eat acidic food. You’re welcome.
*I was bitten by my dog because I’m an idiot, not because I have an aggressive dog who bites. It’s a long story, but suffice to say that I do not share my home with a dangerous dog.