Speaking of dogs, here's a recent picture of my Gracie:
Not only does she hate wagging her tail, walking around, being pet, or making eye contact--she also hates having her picture taken. I honestly had to sneak this one in before she could look away. Sometimes, I swear she'll just close her eyes and pretend I'm not in her vicinity with a camera.
My kind of dog.
This morning, we had a really unfortunate incident:
(See? She's totally pretending that she doesn't notice the camera. LOVE this dog!)
I've never actually measured it, but if I had to estimate, I'd say that Gracie's tail is somewhere between two and three feet long. Fine, maybe it's not that long, but it's about an inch away from dragging on the ground when she walks.
Somehow, we've always managed quite well with this monstrosoty of a tail--probably because she only wags it bi-annually. But today was a completely different story. This morning I had Maggie on one hip, Gracie's leash in the other hand, and I was rushing out the door before she peed a lake in our mudroom. I'm sure you can see where this is going....
I accidentally slammed Gracie's tail right in our mudroom door.
She yelped, and honestly, I thought nothing else of it. That is, not until I saw a trail of blood in the snow (six new #$%^*! inches of snow, by the way). I picked up her tail to see what I had done, and that's the moment I: 1) yelped, 2) cried, 3) almost dropped Maggie, and 4) hyperventilated all at the very same time.
I'll spare you the really intimate details, but I will tell you that I now know exactly what dog ligaments look like.
I rushed Gracie into the vet, where I promptly proceeded to close her front, right paw in the door--this time with a waiting room full of dogs, cats, people, and one parrot watching. The lady at the front desk was like, "Is this the dog with the severed tail emergency?"
And I was all, "Yes. While you have it open, can you put a dislocated toenail on her chart, too? Thanks a mill!"
Thankfully, after an examination and a whole mess of deliberation, the vets decided not to amputate the end of Gracie's tail. It's not that she wouldn't have had enough tail left to go around, I just didn't want her to have to go through anesthesia and surgery. And I also, possibly, didn't want to have to pay for dog surgery either.
Am I a bad person?
Either way, they did a procedure in the office, and Gracie's not good as new, but she's as good as any other anti-social, eldery greyhound. And to that I say, "Phew."