Displaying her instinctive knack for horrible timing, Miss Lucy has come up lame a mere 24 hours before we are to depart for Nashville. She has developed a rather severe limp, her right front paw suddenly hardly touching the floor when she walks. When we inspect her leg she doesn't wince or recoil from our touch. Nothing seems amiss, no swelling of any kind. But she is favoring that leg to an extreme degree.
So, her bed is now in my library and a gate has been placed at the stairs to keep her from using them. Maybe she pulled a muscle in one of her daily frisbee catching workouts. She loves to launch herself into the air and catch the frisbee at its highest possible point, which looks beautifully athletic and graceful, but sometimes she comes back down to earth at awkward angles. Or, maybe she can tell that we are heading out for the long weekend and this is all a stunt to change our minds. This "injury" sure looks serious when she limps around, but it doesn't stop her from her manic gyrations and general goofiness whenever we enter the room. Last night when Ryan and Ron came over, she was in full whirling dervish mode, albeit with a pronounced hitch in her gettiup.
This morning, after the guy from Gurkin comes to fix the upstairs air conditioner( a story for another time), I will take her to the Vet.
Poor girl...
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