Wednesday, April 9, 2008

In which Chili gets Ko'd


Chili is an Australian Cattle Dog. ACDs are also sometimes called Blue Heelers. Cattle dogs have Dingo DNA. Cattle dogs are tough, smart, frequently aggressive, driven, a challenging breed 'not for the novice owner'. Well, duh. I'm not a novice owner. I've had corgis, an Akita, a purebred Rottweiler and a half Rot. Two Catahoulas. And Chili. She is the most difficult of the lot. By far.

Chili raids the trash and opens the pantry. Chili chews rugs and pees wherever she shouldn't. Chili challenges every dog and every human walker we see on our walks. Chili bites our other two dogs whenever she gets excited. She is an Alpha with a capital A. She is also, as you can see from her photo, excruciatingly cute. Loving, protective, cuddly.

Tonight she decided to see what would happen if she attacked our Catahoula, Ginny while Ginny was eating. Intimidate the hoola and steal her food. Fun, eh, mates? Ginny snarled and warned her off. Chili dove for the bowl. Ginny reared back. Chili, not content with stealing the food, bit Ginny on the face. Chaos ensued.

I yelled for Danny who grabbed Ginny's back feet and yanked with no effect at all. I threw a pot of water over the battling dogs. The dogs continued to fight. The kitchen floor was soaked and slippery, Danny fell down, Chili continued to chomp down on Ginny's face while Ginny held on tight to Chili's leg and shook her like a rag doll from side to side. I banged pots. The dogs continued the fight. So much for the advice of dog experts.

Somehow, I don't know how, we got them separated. Ginny had a nasty puncture wound on her face. Chili got the worst of it by far. She was limping badly and had a three inch flap of skin hanging from a leg wound oozing blood. Three or four more bites on the other leg and several on the face. I spent three hours in the Emergency Vet Clinic before they sent me home. They're doing X-rays of her paws, cleaning and treating her cuts, stitching up her bad leg wound. They're splinting the leg. If its broken, she may have to have surgery. She's on opiates and antibiotics. So far, I've spent six hundred dollars. I'm supposed to pick her up whenever they call...may be the middle of the night.

All in all, a dreadful and expensive evening. Chili is not Rocky. I just wish she knew that!

I have to go pick up Chili alone since Danny has to be up at six thirty for work. I'm not driving half way across town in the middle of the night without Abby, my half Rott, in the car with me for protection, though. Abby is Rocky...and she knows she doesn't have to prove it, either.

Live long and prosper.

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