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And Then There Was One (Dog) or alternatively: Precious Is Getting Kicked Out Of The House!!!!!
Excuse me? *annoyed*
The day started out absolutely great! I slept in super late, happy with the knowledge that I did all the chores and such that I could do, at this time, to prepare for my impending stint in boot camp. I got the very last issue of a free subscription of a neato magazine that I had conned out of a friend, and I had delicious leftover chinese food from China Gate to late-lunch munch on. (If you are unaware of the place, it's simply amazing. They treat you like royalty, the service is great, and the food is delicious).

Well anyway, I'm sitting in the warmest room of the house (the only one with direct sunlight, actually), reading the aforementioned magazine with two kitties draping themselves over my prone form. Music is drifting in from my room (my Yuki Kajiura playlist, with 20 new additions thanks to a super hot chick I know. Yeah you Sisy. <3), and the atmosphere is one of absolute chill. Then it begins.

My dogs have been getting into it recently, that's whatever. Ever since Precious was neutered (spayed? Whatever the female term is, she's fixed. Or broken, depending on how you look at it. *shrug*), her and Shadow have been having issues. Given the chance, they will fight to the death. Not always, the triggers seem random. It's more frequent when certain members of the household are in the room with both of them. (Mom, Aaron, Greg, my nephews, Zach, Anyone's friends). In fact, I'm the only one they behave around. I could explain it but I'll save it for another time.

They've both had to go to the vet multiple times thanks to this, and we've learned to keep them separate at all times while we work out what we're going to do. (When Aaron moves out, he's taking Precious with him, since she is his dog.) So "while we work out what we're going to do" is, in this case, a comparatively short euphemism for the much longer "When my brother gets his crap together, gets the phlebotomy license he's been schooling for, gets a job, and subsequently moves out".

Anyway, let's rewind a bit. Basking in sunlight, reading interesting video game magazine stuff, cuddling kitties, and great music. Chill. Until I hear the telltale signs of dogs fighting to the death. Releasing my limiter, I teleported down the hallway into the kitchen to see what the hell was going on and to put a stop to it. Teleportation done, I see the two dogs being barely held back from each other by my brother, while his stunned friends #1 and #2 look on, too shocked to do much. Being proactive, I grab Precious and lead her into the living room, quickly check her body for obvious wounds, find nothing but a few scratches, and close the door to keep her away from Shadow.

While I'm doing this I get to hear bro and co notice my other dog is bleeding all over the kitchen floor. I flit over and watch the now recovered friend #2 simultaneously direct #1 to get her a wet towel and help my brother coax Shadow into lying on his back so they can check out the situation. A good chunk of his chest (ish) area was torn out. Pretty gruesome actually. Not bleeding NEARLY as much as I thought it should though, considering the wound. More on that later.

It was fairly obvious he needed surgery. I left the finger pointing and "OH MY GOD"s to them and called our standard vet. No room that day, even after describing the situation. I asked them where is a place that could patch up the little (big, he's a fat ass) mutt. They recommended a place. I piled the back of my car with towels and BAM off we go. (After calling and making sure that they had room for us. They did.) The active bleeding had stopped (due to pressure or whatever, inconclusive) by then and we admitted him into this new place. Fairly friendly folk. A fact that will become important VERY shortly: when they weighed him he came in at 79lb and some change. HOLY BATMAN his breeds healthy weight is 30-35lb.

Well, after looking at the wound, assessing the situation, the doctor gives us an estimate of approx. $900. I'd go into detail but this particular subject I'll shy away from. People are one thing (oddly enough), but I don't like to discuss or watch medical/surgery stuff about animals. We check whether it's a good price or not and who can pay for it, since the wounded dog is owned by my parents. The calls go like this:

Call to Mom: Hey Mom,
Response: Talk to Greg.

Call to Greg: Hey Greg,
Response: PUT THE $)@($& DOGS TO SLEEP I WON'T ($#*% PAY THAT THAT'S @#%% RIDICULOUS ONE DOG HAS TO GO I DON'T CARE WHO YOU CAN PAY FOR IT #)*$@&%- *hang up* It was at that point, after hearing the "you can pay for it" and I decided I would. My Mom would literally have a heart attack if Shadow got put down, and that's not something I'm really aiming for.

And before you go all "wow" over Greg's response, realize that he has a tendency to blow up EXPLOSIVELY at pretty much anything that is unexpected. But if you give him an hour or two he will calm down and become reasonable. Case in point: He is now fine, and advocating NOT putting Shadow to sleep. He was a sailor back in the day (Navy), so he has a tendency to spout nastiness when angry. It's just a thing you learn to accept in someone.

Regardless, I gave the hospital the green light and they said they'd call before and after surgery. The home situation was unpleasant. I won't go into what all was discussed and went down between the various members of the household. Just the aftermath...


So the verdict stands as such. Precious and Shadow cannot stop fighting. The aggressor changes each time. Today it was undetermined, but Shadow is hospitalized after a chunk got ripped from his lower chest area. Rather than play a blame game, we play simple math. Precious is Aaron's dog, Shadow is owned by my parents. Who also own the household. Aaron is a guest in the house. Both of the dogs have glaring cons and bright shining pros. But it boils down to a simple "Our house, our dog" situation.

Considering that the ONLY person the dogs will not fight around is me, and the fact that I am leaving in a week and a half, means that nobody can control them properly. The grandchildren (my nephews) are over every weekend. The thought of the dogs getting into it around the kids is too much. Precious must be gone (not put down, just relocated) within something like a week. They'll work that detail out tomorrow I'm sure.

I'm both joyful that Precious is getting the boot, and sad that the catalyst was THIS. Also sad that it happened so soon before I'm leaving. She'll probably still be here when I leave. :( Only when I'm GONE will that Satan animal be gone. But mostly I'm worried about my mom. My mom has enough on her plate. She doesn't need this crap. She loves both those dogs. Hopefully Shadow will pull through at least.

OH RIGHT THE FAT THING. THAT WAS IMPORTANT. The reason why having a chunk ripped out of his damn chest wasn't immediately Kill Bill blood splattery or worse and what not was, get this, because Shadow is overweight. The vet flat out said "He's lucky he's so fat. He had a good layer of fat to protect his internal organs..." etc etc. I always knew he was a huge fat ass, but I'll be damned if I ever thought it'd save his life!

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Female doggies get spayed. :)

And I find that fact that your bitches (check out that technical term! oh yeah!) have become more agressive to be really weird. a bit of searching indicates that it DOES happen sometimes and that they're not sure why...

please don't let this disuade you from spaying/neutering other animals in the future... Get them done when they're younger and they don't have time to be overly affected by the influx of hormons. Plus, for female dogs especially... well.. pyrometria is a bad thing. Sorry, off topic I guess. Just going on about someting I feel strongly about. :)

*read read read*

Jeeze. You and your teleportation skills are awesome. Also, your ability to keep your head on straight? awesome.

Your blubberdog? scary :D and lucky!

I'm glad shadow is doing alright.. dogs are resiliant animals, he'll pull through. Until such a time that precious can be gotten rid of... is it not at all possible to keep them in separate parts of the house?

I'mm all sleepy and stuff so pardon the half thoughts. Imma gonna go passout now. <3

So very possible, yeah. :) It's been our normal way of doing things. Precious compounds the issue by being able to open doors, windows, sliding doors, and chewing/head butting her way through things that don't give in immediately. She's one smart little pit bull.

What happened this time, apparently, was my brother and friends came in from the backyard and forgot to secure the sliding glass door. She opened it up.

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