My husband and I had a plan yesterday. We were going to weed and bark dust our courtyard. The idea was to work all day until we finished.
The best laid plans...
Our wonderful, feisty dog Rogue decided he didn't like out plan. Now for all of you dog lovers, he is fine and very lucky.
We have a wooded area beside our house. When my husband unleashed him and let him wander in the courtyard, he decided he wanted to broaden his scope of adventure. He decided to check out the wooded area. A few seconds later we heard anguished screams but we couldn't see what was happening. My husband took off with the leas, and I stayed in the courtyard with my granddaughter. A few minutes later a deer raced by stopping suddenly at the edge of the yard. He/she stared at us for a few seconds, shaking, then bounded back into the forest.
About then my husband came back and asked if I'd seen Rogue. No, I hadn't. He walked into the garage. Apparently the deer had chased Rogue around the through the trees and around the house, until Rogue took refuge on the back door step.
Rogue had been kicked by the deer. He had a nasty gouge on his hind leg and one on his shoulder. We rushed him to the emergency clinic where they stitched him, gave him antibiotics and a list of things to do (all of which he hates). Oh, I forgot the stylish doggy collar.
He is getting back to his old self, and does not want the collar on or the warm compresses over his wound. Sigh...
My granddaughter spent yesterday saying, "Rogue has a big owie." I don't know how to spell that. owie
I'm beginning to dislike deer. Not only have they decimated my rose bushes and stripped my ornamental cherry tree but now they have hurt Rogue.
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