outside on the deck. Mostly, they are sparrows, some doves, and the
occasional cardinal. The males bring such red to the scene.
Incredible. But the females are beautiful too, with their own uniques
shades. The sparrows feed mostly from the feeder, suspended above the
deck from a curved 7 foot rod. The doves tend to feed off seeds
littered about the deck. I can still see patches of dried blood.
Jack clipped our claws yesterday afternoon. I hate getting my claws
clipped. It is too easy to clip too close. I am the hardest. I tend
to bite, even Jack, when it comes to claw clipping time. At those
times Jack tends to hit. Jack has a wallop. My bite against his
wallop. Bella says it is fun to watch. I trust Jack. But, I don't
trust that damn tool of pain he uses to clip our claws. In the year
2008, you might think that modern medical science could come up with a
less painful means to clip claws.
Flecka does not bite. No. She shakes uncontrollably, so bad that she
must lay down. But, that makes clipping her claws harder. Flecka is
a docile creature, except when it comes to food. But, today she
fought Jack and his instrument of pain. She did OK with the rear
paws. But, on the front-left paw she twisted and turned so much that
Jack cut one claw waaaaaay too short. It bled. And bled. And bled.
Jack got the antiseptic, dabbed it on. And left her outside. It was
a warm afternoon. I stayed out with her. Why not. Nice day and
all. But the claw kept bleeding. I could smell it, coppery and
warm. She kept licking it and I kept trying to tell her not to. But,
we dogs lick. It is one of the things we do we. Or a lot. I can
never remember which.
Flecka started barking, to get in, as the temperature started
dropping. Eventually Rick let us in. But, Flecka had not stopped
bleeding. Jack came back upstairs after ten minutes to find red spots
all over the carpet. The yelling began. But, he settled down soon,
realized it was his fault, settled into the task of carpet cleaning.
There is no better way to track than on blood. I prefer it even to
piss or shit. Blood calls to the senses. Shit repels. I'm no shit
roller, don't mind the smell all that much, and occasionally find some
interesting nuances in fresh piles of shit. But it does not call to
me, ever. Not like blood.
Jack is gone for the morning, running errands, getting ready for a
party. He and Sherry are hosting a holiday and birthday party for one
of Sherry's wild friends. Ought to be interesting, them hosting a
party, here, with them not getting along so well. I have to be here,
so have to figure out how to let me stay. Bella and Flecka are going
to stay at friend's.
Gotta go. Have to pay bills and check Facebook before Jack returns.
Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com
2 comments:
Well actually there is a device that actually will file the nails instead of clip them but I think it is only used by vets and it can be expensive.
I've seen that on TV, late nights. But, how to get Jack or Sherry to think about it is the challenge.
A good clipper, that is sharp, does a good job, as long as one does not cut too short.
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