I fucked up. Badly.

I was doing yard work Saturday, turning up the flowerbeds in the backyard, when Mila raced into the bed out of nowhere and part of the garden rake caught her. At first I thought it only got her collar because she didn’t howl or yelp or make any noise. She kept running and playing chase with Abbott. It was only later Elissa saw her acting weird on the patio. Turns out she suffered a decent gash near her leg.

I feel horrible, and I hate myself for not noticing it sooner.

She’s okay. She keeps trying to lick the gash, so much so that we’re considering putting the dreaded cone of shame on her until it heals. That just doesn’t seem fair to her.

I feel like I let her down as a dog parent, which makes me feel even worse since it’s only six weeks until Little Emery arrives…