The Auggie Wing of our local veterinary clinic

It’s always something, and if it’s not one thing, it’s the other damn thing.

Auggie had been licking his foot obsessively. My daughter noticed a split toenail. He wouldn’t let me look at it, which meant it hurt, so off we went to the vet.

Again.

Should have been a minor thing—and I guess it was—but the nail was so deeply split he had to be anesthetized. The vet showed me the nail afterward. It must have really hurt. Poor Auggie. Why do we keep doing these mean things to him? He doesn’t understand. He sat with me in the exam room and cried and cried—not in pain, but in fear. I tried to tell him we would all go home together in the car. But he still cried. I almost cried.

He’s fine. He was groggy all day, but by last night he wanted to play ball, which we declined. He’s back on antibiotics because the nail was starting to get infected, and he has a bandage, and no lake for three days. Sigh.

This morning he rolled on his back and licked my face and I was so grateful for the forgiving nature of dogs. I thanked him for loving me, even though I take him to the vet. I love him, too.

On a bright note: Eli has lost four pounds.

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And now for your pertinent dog photos:

After minor surgery, Auggie wanted the ball, but wasn’t quite ready to do anything with it. I lay down with a headache..

By cocktail hour Auggie was more himself. So was I. He did not have gin.