Ah, the quiet country life. This is the place to raise a family – a safe haven where we can live the Little House on the Prairie dream.
This is the reality. That’s blood on his head and neck, from a small cut to his ear. There’s another, larger slice in his armpit. He appears to have been beat up by other dogs, judging by the amount of real estate he brought home on his back. The last time I had an animal look this bad was when the cat faced down a rattlesnake in the front yard and took a two-pronged strike to the chest.
The fact that I am blogging instead of vetting is very telling. Mud, blood and beer don’t scare me anymore.