Friday, March 13, 2009

While I went on a week-long vacation in the Caribbean, I had my dad and one of my friends look in on Zoe and Scout. I know that the girls would rather be home than anywhere else, but I knew they needed some good people to give them some attention. So I kissed my sweet girls goodbye about 4:30 a.m. (ouch!)that Saturday that I left, feeling pretty secure that they would have a good week.

But the first night I was away, I got a call from my friend telling me Scout couldn't walk. Or even get up. It was a terrible thing to hear- as you can imagine.

We checked in on her status whenever we were able (which wasn't much-), and after she didn't seem to get any better over the next several days, I assumed she had torn the ligament in her other leg. (She had had surgery on one leg last year for this.) Since Scout wasn't whimpering, I figured she wasn't in pain, but just couldn't use her leg.

So for that one reason (and then of course, Zoe being reason #2) I was happy to get back at the end of the week. I found out that for the past couple of days, Scout hadn't been eating her food.

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