Yesterday, dad grabbed Betsy and I and gave us a serious brushing. I heard mom say to him that she thought we looked “homeless” and that’s why we needed to be brushed. OK, so I guess my fur was getting a little ruffled here and there, but homless? C’mon, mom.
As I was being groomed by dad, I got… a little scared and fell of the table where he was brushing me. In the fall, one of my toenails on my left front paw broke. It wasn’t too bad, I’ve broken nails before, but when dad found it he got all worked up. Must’ve been the blood that he saw. Sometimes I think he worries too much about me!
After mom calmed him down, I sat in the corner for a while and licked my paw until the bleeding stopped, and it’s quite all right now, just a little sore sometimes. Really, dad, I’m OK!