Poor pooch has been home less than a week  and she’s broken.

Maybe I didn’t break her – maybe she broke herself but I feel awful. She ran out with the big dogs last night when I got home and flew off the back deck steps, landed, said “YIIII” and refused to put her hind left foot down for the rest of the night. At bed time she raced up the stairs, leaped up onto our too tall bed, danced around on all four feet then fell asleep. This morning she woke up sound. “YAY – PHEW”  thinks myself and off to work I go.

Come home and a three legged chihuahua tears down the hall to greet me. I admit it. I swore. Picked her up. Carried her outside where she bravely hopped around had a pee and came to me to be carried back in. While Thea is a 6.5 pound little dog she is NOT a dog who chooses to be carried anywhere, ever.

She hopped a little, cuddled on my lap for awhile then decided even three legged it was time to play with Sally. Oh Thea!

She was not happy to be kept quiet.

Wonder if she’ll wake up in the am sound again? My instinct says this is more serious than Sally’s lameness of three weeks ago – let’s hope I’m wrong! Love love love the pocket rocket … hate to see her the least bit sore.