Let me just first say that what I learned is that I am not terribly pithy at 4am, definitely not pithy enough to make a list like I did over the lessons I learned when my cat woke me up at 4am. You see, I wrote that post during the day. Currently it’s 3:56am.
Second, my dog didn’t technically wake me up. But he has definitely kept me awake, as he’s been in the house since approximately 7:35pm. Now, I know I talk a lot about my cats, and that’s because they live in the house with me so I’m in near constant contact with them. What you may not know is that I also have four dogs. Two black and two chocolate Labs (best dogs ever, I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY WESTMINSTER), one is a girl and the other three are boys. Riley (black male, 9 years old) and Sadie (chocolate female, 8 years old) are the parents of Johnny (chocolate male, 7 years old) and Cash (black male, 6 years old).
I adore my dogs, but they are gigantic and not well-behaved, so they stay outside on our acre.
So why is one of my dogs (Johnny) inside and keeping me up at four in the morning? Well currently it’s because Johnny won’t stop farting, and he is the stinkiest ever. But he’s been inside all evening because Cash ripped off the bottom of his ear. (NOTE: DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, REPEAT, DO NOT!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND I ABDICATE ALL FURTHER RESPONSIBILITY!!!!!)
Now, we used to have problems with our dogs fighting before we got Sadie spayed two or three years so, but we really haven’t since. I was supposed to have an indoor game tonight at 7:25, and I was really looking forward to playing and NOT almost breaking my nose. About thirty minutes before it was time to leave, I went outside to feed the dogs. Everything was fine, I petted them, threw their toys for them a couple times, and then closed the gate to the portion of the yard that we keep them in. I turned to walk away, and suddenly Johnny and Cash are trying to kill each other.
I’ve been around my dogs a few times when this has happened, and let me tell you, it never gets less gut-wrenchingly terrifying. Let me just go ahead and state that they never ever have threatened me in any way, in any situation; when they fight it’s more like you cease to exist to them and nothing you say or do will get through. I turned and ran to turn on our garden hose to spray them, one of the only things that seems to work, but by the time I got back over to them they’d stopped fighting.
I was spitting mad, mostly due to terror, and I blasted Cash with the hose. Johnny, the Labrador who is inexplicably terrified of water, ran behind our shed and didn’t come out for a few minutes. I was so upset I just stood there and yelled at them (sooo effective). When Johnny suddenly appeared, I realized his face was covered in blood. I freaked out naturally, and coaxed him towards the fence. He was pouring blood, but I couldn’t tell where from exactly, so I ran to our gate to let him into our other yard.
Unfortunately, the idiot was so traumatized by this point that he didn’t want to come through the gate, resulting in the other three trying to wedge their way through while I yelled some more. I was in a state of panic by this point, because Johnny is basically gushing blood everywhere, and it was then I finally realized that the entire bottom tip of his ear was gone. Completely, utterly ripped off. I amost had a heart attack, and I guess some of my increased urgency finally got through to Johnny because he finally came through the gate. I rushed him onto our back porch and started screaming for my mom to bring a towel. Johnny is going half mad with both excitement and anxiety, and every time he moved his head (which was constantly), he was slinging blood everywhere. By the time my mom got me a towel, there was blood all over my clothes.
I sat on the porch with that dog for thirty minutes trying to hold a towel around his ear. The problem was every time he finally stopped bleeding, he would shake his head suddenly, and his ear would start pouring blood again. My back porch looks like the legitimate crime scene of a particularly violent murder. At one point (possibly one of the lowest points in my life), Johnny shook his head unexpectedly, and I got dog blood in my mouth. Dog blood. In. My. MOUTH.
I ask you, Readers, is this what post college life is always like? Doesn’t it usually take just a little bit longer to hit such a horrible low for most graduates? By the time I went in the house, I looked like I had freckles. I have no real freckles, Readers. What I did have was blood all over my face, neck, and exposed skin.
We let him in, of course, to the utter terror of Finn, who has not come out of the bedroom, and to the howling fury of Boo, who starts hissing and growling if he sees Johnny move. We had to cover the floor with towels and blankets because Johnny was still dripping blood. Somehow, like a last bit of salt to rub in the wound, he got blood on my pillow. I had to change the bandage on his ear three or four times tonight, so I keep having to wash random smears of blood off me. I’ve also taken him out twice, which normally wouldn’t be a big deal in May in Oklahoma, but our bipolar state has now decided that it should be ridiculously cold in May, so that means I am too when I take my dog out to try and get him to pee.
I missed the indoor game I’d been so looking forward to, in case you were wondering. Johnny finally settled down a few hours ago, so I then proceeded to watch every single episode of Say Yes to the Dress that was On Demand, and I’m not even ashamed. I kept crying, too, especially on this episode about this really nice girl whose cancer came out of remission. Stuff like that should be illegal when it’s that time of the month, that’s all I’m saying.
So suffice it to say, it’s been a very eventful, exhausting evening. There’s been an unusually high amount of blood in my life lately what with the near broken nose and the broken dog ear, and I’m really hoping this is not becoming a trend because heaven only knows what will be next (I almost killed my friend Richie and I driving the wrong way down a street last night, so I’m probably lucky we didn’t wreck and bleed to death). It’s been a bloody awful week, and I’m worn out and more than ready to go to sleep. Unfortunately, I think the most important lesson I learned tonight is that I really shouldn’t give Johnny part of a bean burrito and then let him sleep on the floor next to me.
PS Exhaustion is a universal language.