It's always Lu. She gets her head stuck in jars. She gets trapped under sheds and she's been known to regurgitate mysterious substances (some cynics theorize she does this because she knows it will lead to a few days of chicken and rice instead of organic, American made, ultra-healthy, large breed puppy chow.) As soon as I noticed a few red flecks in the snow, I feared the worst while feeling calmly assured that at least Lettie was OK.

When the flecks led to crimson paw prints, I called Lu and she came, slightly limping. I found a cut on the pad of her right rear foot almost directly under her right-center toenail. Having been through such injuries with other dogs, I felt prepared to handle her first aid. I called Karen at her office and she directed me to the bag with Lloyd's foot abrasion supplies.

Neosporin? Check!

Gauze pads? Check!

That tape that sticks to and comes off dogs without a problem? Check!

Ridiculous size none white athletic socks? Check!

We were ready to make medical history!



Except for one problem: Lu wouldn't cooperate and now that she's over forty pounds of mostly muscle, her cooperation is essential. I waited for Karen to come home and we double-teamed our patient. After ten minutes of surgery, we had applied the neosporin, gauze, tape and ridiculous sock. Lu removed all of it before we had time to screw the top back on the neosporin.

Undaunted, I wrestled her into submission while Karen covered the wound with some "liquid bandage" she'd bought on the way home. This required sixty seconds to set up and so I held Lu tightly while she howled a forlorn canine aria, hitting high notes only puppies can reach. For good measure Karen placed a ridiculous size none sock over the injured paw. We then put her in her crate with a nice new bone. Lettie, who had been sequestered in her crate during the medical procedures, also benefited from this giveaway program.

A few minutes later the sock was off but Lu was enjoying her bone and off the paw. She wasn't losing any blood. The situation had been stabilized. We'd watch her carefully and consider our options around 5:30 AM, when Lettie and Lu leave us no option but to get up and feed them.

With the morning came hope. No blood was evident on Lu's bed or bedding. But when she went out in the snow, her trail was still color-coded. Karen went to work. We would call the vet's office when it opened. After Lu's second trip outside, I discovered a sizable bloodstain. in the snow.  I brought her in and put her in her crate until 10:00 when I coaxed her into the car and drove her to the vet for an 11 AM appointment.

The vet said it wasn't a case for stitches or, for that matter, any treatment at all. He did inject the wound with some industrial strength liquid bandage. He said she was in no danger of losing much blood although the dramatic trails would last for another day or so. He said the pad of a dog's foot heals very quickly because hounds are constantly shedding and growing new epidermal layers of pad. He theorized that she had cut it on ice, which had been my guess (really, it had but then snow was about the only other suspect). He also said I was a responsible person for making sure she was OK and then he spoke well of Karen, who usually draws the medical detail. Then he charged me next to nothing for the visit. A good man, that vet.

I paid the bill and drove her home. Lettie was ecstatic to see us. Lu was ecstatic to see lunch. Things remained calm until the mailman arrived with a package and I had to explain why 'Helter Skelter' had been written in paw prints in the snow. He seemed to buy my alibi but I'm still half waiting for the SWAT team to swoop in.

The important thing is once again, Lu the Dog is OK. Our nerves are fraying but she's going to be fine. Lettie always is.