Deacon's flank is ugly. The crazed Dalmatian took out a big chunk of skin, and the vet sewed up the rectangular gash diagonally, so the skin isn't quite even, in a sort of alarming fashion. He's all shaved. I'll try and get a picture, poor thing.
He's on doggie pain meds, and my aunt showed me a nifty two-treat trick. If Deacon is given the time to think about it, he will extract a pill from a treat with his tongue, and spit it out. However, if you give him a pill concealed in a treat, and follow it up with another, he will scarf down the first one (with the pill) so he can grab the second one. Oh, dog psychology. (Note: probably would not work on the poodle.)
Deacon is not allowed to hump or be humped, lick his stitches, take stairs, run around excessively, or roll in the yard. (He is allowed to lick his front legs and/or his dick. Licking the poodle's dick is frowned on because this often leads to humping.) Much humping is being forestalled by keeping them apart; if Deacon gets too licky he may wind up wearing the Cone of Shame.
I conked out for a nap for a while, because it looked like Deacon had the right idea. I did not wake up when my aunt called to check in; I did wake up when my best friend called. ♥ He was watching TV and thought of me. So he called. And we chattered. We watched pretty much the whole episode like that. I caught him up to date on some stuff. It was good. He'll be out for a while thanks to a family gathering. I don't even know if I have any relatives left in Iowa. (I appreciate so much that he's now in the habit of checking in with me before he goes out of contact. 1996 left some deep scars, man.)
There was a bit of a tricky moment when it looked like Deacon hadn't gotten his antibiotics with his dinner, but he did get them in the end.
Evidently great fun was had at the tango event. There are instructors who are slashier than Sam and Dean. (Much to the shock and horror of all involved, I shared something truly horrible with raranax last night, thanks to norabombay.)
I brought home pizza from Papa Murphy's. My cousin borrowed my beret. Despite the lure of fireworks, I think it's time for an early night.