Car Catches Dog; Dog lives to tell tale

This morning – in the heat of hot sex – we heard the unmistakable sound of a car hitting a dog. It was either that, or a really really happy dog drove by. Which, I guess means it was sort of a mistakable sound, but that’s neither here nor there.

It was Chase.

I had a sense that something was amiss this morning, if for no other reason than the dogs were not whining about being fed around 7:30. But still, duty calls, so I figured hey, maybe they’re just tired or outside pooping, for a really really long time, and then began having consensual intercourse.

We didn’t really figure it was one of our dogs at first, because they’re locked in the yard, which is surrounded by a 7’ security fence, and as athletic as I believe them to be, I do still think it’s beyond their abilities to leap it. But anyway, a scant few seconds later, and I heard a voice calling at about our back gate. Dun-dun-duh……

Sure enough, the gate was open. 3 of 4 dogs were accounted for, with Miles of all dogs missing. Chase was limping, and actually had the sh!t scared out of him – literally. He seemed bruised but not broken, and we made plans for one of us to stop him by the vet immediately, and the other one would search out Miles. The Girl got vet duties, I got Miles Duty, which turned out to actually be quite easy: go out back, start the truck, look across the alley; done.

I have to say this: I love veterinarians (sarcasm). They always manage to take a lot of money from me in a short amount of time, in order to tell me what I already know: my dog is in shock, the sh!t –literally – was scared out of him, he’s bruised but not broken, blah blah blah. But, when your dog gets hit by a car, I think it’s more or less mandatory that you make the effort at least to see the vet. And being the sticklers for tradition that we are, we made the call & the trip, and then fattened the guy’s wallet a little. (side note: I think The Girl ought to become a vet)

Anyway, Chase will live. He will live to tell the tale about the day that a car caught the dog. The names may change, and the car will I’m sure get bigger each time he tells the story, but hey, that’s life.

So long as the car’s not going too fast, I suppose. Otherwise… death :-( Lucky Dog. My bets are he stays f*ckin’ put in the backyard for awhile after that.

PS: The Girl was watching over my shoulder as this blog was typed up. Therefore, I had to properly irritate her, hence the “intercourse.” For the record, she prefers it’s referred to as “hot kinky sex,” “doing it,” “f*cking,” or the like. You may therefore substitute any of those terms for “intercourse” in the above blog. Have a nice day :-)