Panza twisted his paw this morning. All I saw was a sleeping basset hound and then up he sprints to see what was outside the window (most likely a cat or a squirrel) and the little guy was limping.
He & Quixote are still fairly young and at times awkward. In fact, Quixote twisted … or sprained … his paw a couple of months ago and hobbled around for almost a week.
Hubby wonders why I didn’t rush them off to the vet when both of these events occurred. Well, they weren’t whimpering and aside from the fact that they were gimping along, they didn’t look like it bothered them too much.
And the winner of the best milking of an injury goes to …
He’d limp along in his little rolling gait, stop to see if I was watching him, pull up his sore paw, suck in his cheeks, and roll his huge baby browns at me. I fell for it every time today and made sure he didn’t walk more than a few steps at any one time.
Hubby & I had to run to the bookstore early this evening. Prior to our leaving, Panza was still hobbling around. We got home and both he & Quixote were so crazy to see us that he must have forgotten he was injured.
He hasn’t limped, gimped, or hobbled since then.