The Hell Hound Chronicles

My heart swells with sympathy for the Hell Hound right now. I've only been in serious contact with the Hell Hound for the 8 months that Laura and I have cohabitated. I have no idea what it was like before then, or if it even was a dog before I met. For all I know, it's actually a raccoon that's been dressed in a dog suit for 30+ weeks. Anyway, in that length of time, the Hell Hound has always had this unpleasant little thing on her face. I guess I would best describe it as a grouping of very slender, tall moles. For a man used to the unchained beauty of his one-eyed, obese cat, it was hard to look at.

Anyway, the other night, I was off in the spare bedroom, continuing on my manifesto entitled "Comeuppance Shall Be Swift and Terrible for Time Warner Cable". All of a sudden, Laura started hollering about something. I bolted from my seat, while my hand went to the side of my shoe, searching for the shiv I usually keep there. When I darted into the living room, I discovered we were not under attack, but that the Hell Hound was bleeding from her weird face thing. To see blood oozing from the strange facial protuberance made it all the yuckier to view. "I'm no veterinarian," I began humbly, although technically, I'm only 3 lab hours away from such a title. "But I think she may need some medical attention." A weird thing on one's face is okay, and to bleed from one's face is also okay, but blood coming from the weird thing on one's face is cause for concern.

Yesterday, Laura took her in to the vet (big props to Balcones Animal Hospital, the best and cheapest place in Austin). When I got home, I beheld a sad sight. The doc had cut the strange formation off of the Hell Hound's face (it was a benign tumor), cauterized the wound, and then sewed it up. It was dictated that she must wear one of those crazy, funnel-looking, inverted lamp shade deals on her head until it heals. At the same time, the doc discovered the pigment is falling off of her nose (how the hell does that happen?). In summary, she has a gaping, facial wound, one of those 'quit biting yourself' dork dog collars, and a nose that's both black and pink. It is a pitiful sight to behold. If I encounter something like that late at night, I'm liable to call the National Guard and barricade myself in a closet until daylight. Poor Hell Hound.