When It Rains, It Pours

Ollie had a dental and a tooth extraction on Wednesday. Add in the dental x-ray, the laser treatment after surgery (LOVE the laser treatments for healing), & the meds, and it was a nice big unexpected hit to the wallet. But hey, she's our girl, and we don't begrudge it a bit.

We get her home, and Miss Sassy Britches is wide open all evening. We're hanging out in the living room with the pups, tossing the ball for Roscoe and petting Jack in my lap. (Ollie was wandering getting in to everything.) Roscoe decides he wants to play with Jack. Jack wants very badly to play with Roscoe, but Roscoe is big and exuberant and gets carried away very quickly & easily. Jack is the low man in the pack, and he gets nervous playing with Roscoe. It's only ever a jump run & chase kind of play; he's too afraid to actually wrestle with Roscoe. Roscoe will jump & poke at Jack, trying to entice him to jump back, and that's what happened this particular evening. But contact was made, stronger than usual, and Jack flared up on Roscoe. That was the end of that.

It isn't until later--bedtime--that we discovered Jack got the short end of that encounter and sustained an injury to his eye. Yikes.

We determined he could see out of the eye and, since it was late, decided to wait & see how it looked in the morning. Turns out there is trauma--the eye is swollen, the eyeball is a little bulge-y, and there's a scratch on the cornea. We have meds for all that, and he'll get re-checked next week.

Poor little fella! He always gets the short end with the other two. They're so confident & pushy, and he's meek & sweet (except where food and small critters are concerned.) He's milking it for all it's worth though--asking for extra treats, jumped up on the table tonight, sleeping in the bed with us. I swear he's playing on our sympathy and guilt.