Well, I’m officially done moving. My husband and I are in the new house, my parents and brother are staying in the old house. Owning two houses, filled with love and family. I couldn’t be happier.

We only have one problem, and it’s the cellular signal strength. It’s pretty much shit. I don’t get 4G and full bars. I’m lucky to have 3G and two bars! I occasionally end up in 1x land. Not sure what to do about it right now, but I have other priorities for me to worry about.

So, yesterday (18th) was just a shitty day. In order to best explain today, I have to jump back in time a little bit. About the middle of January, my uncle found an entire horse skeleton while he was walking around the local land around my house in Buckeye. He ended up with the entire skull. I got two legs with the hooves and an additional hoof. I kept it all hidden from the dogs, so that when we moved, they would have something to occupy the time while I was unpacking and cleaning.

But, things that sound simple aren’t always what they appear. Victoria attacked Clara. My poor baby girl was screaming, but Victoria wouldn’t let go. That is when I interjected. 

I don’t know exactly all that took place, but I ended up with battle wounds. I took a flying leap to the ground and felt a bite on my right bicep. Ignoring the attacker (Daisy), I grabbed the horse leg and began to try to get Victoria to grab it, releasing Clara. Instead, I had to use it as a weapon against the overwhelming majority of gnashing teeth. 

Daisy bit my right forearm, sinking in a fang deep, which gashed with every shake of her tiny Scottie body. I think she was trying to defend Clara, but I don’t know for certain. It’s not like I speak dog, and as much as she tries, Daisy has not yet mastered the English language. 

My left hand got bit, and I don’t know what dog did that. I just knew that it felt like my index and middle fingers were broken. I scooped Victoria up, threw her in the living room, and then went to my Clara. No blood. Which was puzzling, because I was covered in blood. Wet, hot blood.

I go back to Victoria and don’t see blood. About then I began to feel the pain. I ran to the kitchen sink and started to wash the blood off my arm and hands. Saw the wounds, made a makeshift bandage with a pantyliner and duct tape. Collapsed onto the tile floor in the kitchen and started crying. 

I never cry. I’m sure you are sick of people who claim this, but I assure you that I’m a giant emotionless (cock blocking) robot. 

My fingers were all fucked up. I couldn’t move them. Crawled to the freezer and started an ice pack on my right forearm, and left hand. 

Frank walks in the door to find my sobbing self. Offers to get me medical care, but I refuse. Then my parents and brother stop by with dinner for us. Spent some time with them. 

They left. Frank went to bed, and I sat down, contemplating my brilliant life choices. That was about the same time I examined my fingers. I had to bury my face into a pillow and bite down. They were not broken, but dislocated. The snap of them going back to the proper place almost made me vomit.

My body was a horrible wreck, and I decided to just not move unless I absolutely had to. 

Clara wasn’t really active most of the night. She was limping, favoring the left front leg. Thankfully I had a (vet prescription) anti-inflammatory medication for her (arthritis). Once the dose got into her system, she was her happy Westie self. I was relieved. She’s doing better than yesterday. I was in contact with the vet, just in case I needed to get her in. But, she was doubtful that Clara would need to be seen, based on the information that I provided. 

So…learn from my mistakes. I don’t think I would have handled it any differently. I would still protect Clara, over myself, a million times over.

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