Walking Wounded...Barely

I seriously cannot make this stuff up. We have another walking wounded in our family. This walking would would be of the furry variety, but somehow that makes it all the worse! Our temporary charge, Cougar (Kim and Leslie's dog), who is staying with our family until Kim and Leslie become permanent residents at another location after his recent graduation (happy late congrats on the graduation and baby, btw!) has become the walking wounded. We don't know what happened, we just know that somehow Cougar ended up with one huge (I mean, HUGE) gaping tear in his side measuring approximately 8 inches long. I have a theory of my own, but it only goes well if I explain some history, which will not be a surprise to some of my family and will be a huge shock to some other of my family. What can I say? I'm only human and as humans do, did something stupid and continued to do it as a twisted way of controlling my increasingly feeling out-of-control life.

Story line: I smoke. I have been a smoker for approximately...ohhh...5 months. It's not glamorous and I can't say I even particularly enjoy it, but I smoke. Of which, I have quickly decided to quit because, let's face it...it's gross...has made a recent cold of mine much worse and it's stinking and I constantly taste smoke. Yes, this is my glamorous life! Before my very glamorous seizure, I hadn't smoked for about 3 weeks and hadn't truly missed it, but decided that I did about the time I realized I probably wouldn't be able to drive for some extended amount of time. You see, I don't like feeling out of control, which has probably kept my life from spiraling ridiculously out of control up until now, which is why I refuse to drink, which I have tried in the recent months, much to my chagrin.

Anyhow. Now you have a history. I go out on "smoke breaks" while living in my parents house. Cougar is determined to be my best buddy, so hence, he has accompanied me on these infrequent excursions out onto the back patio where I bundle up and insisted on smoking a stinky cigarette that I was convinced was "healthier" because it didn't have any additives. What can I say? I'm a master of denial. Whenever I went out, Cougar went out. He likes to chase cars, so I would keep him in the back area of the house, where I noticed his increasing fascination with the bushes back by the swing set. He's too big to get behind them and I just figured there were some rats that fascinated him that he couldn't get at. No harm, no foul.

Apparently not. Today, I was crashed out in my room due to this worsening cold that has whipped my hide and I kept hearing the phone ring and nobody was answering. I dragged myself to the phone and returned my dad's repeated calls where he asked for an old raggedy t-shirt to be brought to him. He said something about Cougar and I surmised that somehow Cougar had become injured and was far enough gone that I figured the t-shirt was for my dad. So much for me being the hero and answering the phone for this urgent phone call. Note to self: do not answer the phone groggy, it's just a pain and we have to fix it later!

I can't drive, of course, so mom is the designated driver, but luckily she calls to get a further story and figures out that the t-shirt is for Cougar to tie over a drain because this apparent accident has ripped a clean 2-3 inches of skin around said 8 inch wound away from his ribs. This is when my mind cleared up and I asked if it could have been a rat (not fully comprehending 8 inches in my mind, obviously) or a feral cat because he had had such a fascination with the bushes for a few days and he wasn't far from the garage door when my dad heard what sounded like a short fight (maybe) and a resulting yelp of pain. The doctor says no rodent can do this and after seeing the damage, I agree. The doctor can only say that somehow, Cougar must have impaled himself on something, then ran away in pain to cause such damage. Cougar, my friends, is not a stupid dog (despite his continual efforts to become BFF's with me)...rather, I think a feral cat tore into him than the theory that he impaled himself on something.

So, we have another walking wounded in this family. And I am attaching pictures, some of which are just heart-rending. Some of which are gruesome. I gave you fair warning. I give you: the walking wounded.