I went to feed the animals last night, and when Murphy came running for his cat food, I noticed he had an injury over his eye.
Specifically, he was missing a large patch of fur and was sporting a small spot of blood. My first thought was that it was kind of impressive to lose that much fur and only draw that little blood, until I realized that I have absolutely no idea how on earth he got hurt.
The obvious culprit would be Bailey, who has been practicing her stalk, prey, and attack skills on the cat, who in turn is perfecting his own stalk, prey and kill skills on the puppy. (After they’re done beating the stuffing out of each other, they curl up on the couch and Murphy licks Bailey’s entire head.)
It’s no wonder that I’m not getting any writing done these days. Between sick chickens, dogs with spring fever, and a new puppy in the house I’m constantly being distracted. The dogs want to go out, they want to come in, they want to go out, they want to come in. Someone barfs, someone else chews my sneaker. The puppy pees on the rug, the cat empties my desk of papers.
Add in the sounds of spring construction, barking dogs up and down the street, and it’s a three ring spring circus over here.