Monday, January 12, 2015

"I'm Not Talking"

Gossie turned up with a teeny weeny dot of blood on his back passenger side toe about an hour ago. Pen is just getting around to having a wee sniff at the ped, and the boy is giving his strictest Editor Cat face.

He was lying with his foot over the edge of the chair, perhaps to keep it from touching anything. He let me check to see if the blood was wet, but was not anxious for further investigation. My poor puddy. He's INCREDIBLY forgiving and patient with gentle touches and even a little looking, but it does seem like he's a little bit hurty.

There was no wound when I came home, and there's no broken glass in the house, but he will not tell me what happened to his tootsie. Since the blood is on the top of his foot, and he's hopping furniture with perfect nimbleness, I'll skip the vet for now - but, in honor of a family tradition inaugurated by my stepfather, I may see whether he'll take a squirt of Bactine.

Aww. The sweet thing; he did just let me look between his peds. I can't find a wound, so whatever it is, it's pretty wee. And it only takes a drop of blood to show up on otherwise white sneakers.

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