Jan. 23, 2016

When I opened the door to the garage to go out and check on Sam this morning he was not only up, he was at the door asking to come into the house.  This might not sound like a big deal, but it's really huge.  He's spent the past week just laying on his beds out there, refusing to come in, only getting up to eat and go outside when he absolutely had to.  To see him up and wagging his tail and wanting to come in was such a relief.  Steve was particularly polite and the rest of the dogs seemed thrilled to see Sam up and wagging.  Since it's the weekend and I have no social life to speak of, I'll be able to let him stay in the house where I can keep a close eye on everything.  I think maybe Sam missed his spot on the couch more than anything else.  

The dogs all seem more relaxed, I'm happy with how Sam is healing and I'm hopeful that things are almost back to what passes for normal around here.  

Jan. 19, 2016

This is what I came home to last night after work.  Again. This time they were at it when I walked in the door and except for Smith who met me at the door in a panic, all of the other dogs were trying their best to break it up.  It looked like they hadn't been going on very long, but long enough to do more than enough damage to each other.  I had to wade into the middle of it again, and wound up practically strangling Steve with his collar to get them apart. Everything you've ever heard about Pits biting and holding is true, and then some.  

They had gone more than 2 weeks cohabitating peacefully, even cuddling a few times.  And I had left them alone in the house for a few errands several times so I thought things were all back to what passes for normal here.  Obviously, I was mistaken.  

As you can see, Sam isn't feeling quite so bad this time even though his old wound opened up again and he's got a new one to match it.  The new one isn't quite as bad as the original, although it's bad enough.  He did do a better job on Steve this time. Maybe that's why he feels ok about the outcome of the fight. I've never seen a dog with a black eye before, it's not pretty.

I opted not to go to the vet this time.  Steve would have had to go along this time and I didn't want to be speeding down I-5 in the dark and rain trying to break up a dog fight in the back of my Subaru. I may have some odd ideas of what's fun, but that's not on the list.  Thanks to all of those years of doctoring cows and horses, I feel comfortable doing all of the medical care.  So I've got that going for me.  If it looks like Sam is infecting again, or if Steve's eyeball falls out, I'll break down and take them to the vet.  I may have to get a part-time job just to cover the cost of vet care for these 2 mf-ers.

Sam's back in the garage.  I'd feel bad about that, but he put himself in there after I broke things up last night so I know he feels safer and more comfortable out there.  It's relatively warm and completely dry out there and he has all the dog beds so I know he's ok. As a bonus, he won't be leaking blood clots all over the house if he's out there.  Steve "Mike Tyson" Jerkface can stay inside.  With any kind of luck, Beau will decide that he needs to be taught a lesson.  I have to say he has my complete support should he decide to do that.  I don't think I'd be shedding too many tears if I came home to find just bits and pieces of Steve.  I can't remember ever being this angry with one of my dogs in the entire time I've had dogs which is practically my entire life.  

I wonder if I could get compassionate leave from work from this so that I could stay home and referee.

Jan. 1, 2016

Sam survived another disagreement with Steve.  He had to stay overnight at the vet and has 3 drains in his chest and neck. He's on 2 kinds of pain killers, and huge doses of antibiotics.  The drains have to stay in until Tuesday and he has to stay in the garage until he heals up.  There was waaaaay more damage than was visible until they shaved off a bunch of hair.  The photos are pretty gruesome, so I don't think I should post them.  But here he is in his cone of shame.