So yesterday Steve and I pull into the driveway around 5:40. The dogs had a squirrel treed. As we were approaching it leapt from the tree and was soon screaming as it was in a three-way tug-of-war with the dogs. At this point I ran into the house crying, because I'm made of tough stuff.
Steve came in a minute later to tell me about the events that followed. I was happy to have missed Roscoe trying to shake the squirrel off his face. (update, I've since been told that Callie was trying to pull the squirrel off his face too) I am pretty sure I would have lost my shit if I had seen that. I immediatley ran out to check on him and he came prancing around the corner with a limp squirrel in his mouth and a very bloody eye.
This not being the first eye injury in our almost 10 years together… I scooped him up, grabbed my purse, called my vet that was closing in 15 minutes and told them I was on my way. They were so kind to stay late for us. He burst an blood vessel and did get scratched, but luckily his cornia was untouched. At times like this I am so happy to living in a small town where not only will the vet stay late, but I can get there lickety split.
I'd hoped this morning that he might be worn out and wanting to rest, but he sat right at the window looking for squirrels.