Sunday afternoon I noticed a raw, red spot on Mamie’s back leg. It was damp from her licking and she wasn’t letting me anywhere near it
We had an early morning visit to the vet today (where I seemed to be the only client who’d heard of the virus. The man with the cat and the woman with the greyhound both seemed unconcerned about handling the door or personal space and neither wore a mask). Whether it was a bug bite or whatever, she’d been fussing with it enough that it wasn’t going to heal on its own.
I was given an antibiotic spray to use twice a day and told to preferably cover it with a sock.
A sock, huh? Mamie’s back leg makes a breadstick look hefty.
I left the vet and went to the dollar store where I dug out the smallest socks I could find – 12 months to 24 toddler. Even so, after I cut off the toe, the resulting tube would drop off her leg like Melissa McCarthy’s pencil skirt off of Angelina Jolie.
So here I am, stitching again.
At least with twin two-year-old granddaughters, the leftovers won’t go to waste.