March 8, 2001
Ok, its official. Darby is trying to kill me. I have no doubt about it anymore.
Yesterday it was so bad here I had to finally crate her. This dog doesn’t realize she’s injured and has to take it easy.
I was taking her out in the morning after I arrived home after breakfast. I always have her on lead until we get to the dog run where I turn her loose and go out with her. We get to the bottom of the stairs leading to the run and she does a flip in the air. No warning, just a flip. ACK! I scolded her and led her out to the run and she does her business.
I bring her in and put her on her orthobed and she was pretty good except for a few minor incidences during the day. Finally about dinner time I put her in the crate while I get the food dishes to feed everyone. I must not have shut the crate well enough. As I come into the house with the food I hear a slide on the pergo then a bang. I look into the dining room and here’s Darby sliding across the floor and then banging into one of the dining room chairs! ARRGGGGGGGGHHHHH!
I dropped the food dishes on the counter and practically jumped on top of her and tackled her before she could do anymore. All I could think of was her damaging her leg and breaking the screws off or wrecking the plate. Forgive me, dear Lord for the words that I called her in that instance. I was shaking with fear as I gathered her up and dragged/lifted her back to her crate. You can bet I made sure it was latched securely this time.
As I took her out to potty after she ate, I watched her closely and thankfully she never limped. Thank you Jesus.
So now you understand why I think Darby is trying to kill me. We’ll both be lucky to make it out of this ordeal alive. She from my wanting to kill her and me from her giving me a heart attack.
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