Well, last night Charlie got hurt. Badly. He ran behind Ella's headboard as we were putting her to bed. There was a big ol' bolt sticking out back there, one that holds the headboard to the bed frame. Well, he caught his side on the bolt and literally ripped a big bunch of tissue off. Not a gash. A hole. In his side. *cue that sick feeling in your stomach where you worry if the puppy that you love dearly is going to be okay or... not*
Of course, to make matters worse, we were in the middle of a borderline blizzard. We got about 8 inches of snow. For Kansas, that is a ridiculous amount. So, we had to drive to the animal emergency hospital on terrible roads. Let's just say that I was in full panic mode.
Long story short, they heavily sedated him so that they could sew him up. He ended up with a couple of layers of stitches. He looks a little like Frankenstein. I'll spare you a picture of that, mmm-kay?
Luckily, he's going to be okay. He'll heal. In the meantime, he's not himself at all. He won't move. He won't eat or drink much of anything. We've managed to get some peanut butter down him and a few licks of water here and there. Poor babe.
Feel better soon, Sir Charles Bacon. We're missing your sparkle.