After a 28-hour stay at the animal hospital and a week and a half acting out of sorts, Luke (the Pobre Perro, aka Sam-Sam, aka Lukeman, aka Grandpet, aka Ben's dognephew) is back home and healing like the champion Puerto Rican street mutt he truly is.
Though he looks awfully sad in this photo, I'm told that he is actually cheerful, happy to be released from the hospital and busy following his masters all around the house, sniffing, licking off his Bandaid, and getting into the usual Luke trouble. He's got a special diet, a shaved leg, and an order to stay away from creepy friend dogs who want to share his water bowl (issued by Meg, unofficial orderer for Gulf Shrimp safety; think of me as a canine crossing guard in a bright orange vest.). Looks like everything's looking up Luke again. Phew!
PS: MAshely, did the vets happen to mention anything about dog-karma for Luke's "incidents" involving squirrels lately? ;-)
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