Carnage

I was cleaning and organizing the craft room yesterday morning when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and saw that the call was coming from a nice young man who was, at that very moment, on my roof. (I hired him to paint the metal roof this summer so it would be good to go for another 15 years or so.) Thinking he must need some supplies or something, I answered and this is a transcription of our very short conversation.

Matthew (who was able to survey the whole scene from his perch on the apex of my two story roof): "Uh. Your dog just killed a squirrel."

Me: "Oh. That happens all the time."

Matthew: "Ummm. . .It's pretty bad. You better go look. There's like, a lot of blood? And, you know, it's ummmm, kinda bad."

Me: "F*ck! (long pause) Excuse my language."

Matthew: "No problem."

The carnage began in the backyard but the bloodshed spilled over into the garage. It was everywhere – dripping from the back door, pooled in quickly congealing blobs on the concrete floor and slung onto everything in a five foot radius.

Usually Oliver gets the squirrel. This time the squirrel got Oliver. . .just before the squirrel departed this world in a blaze of dog slashing glory.

At first I thought Oliver must be dying. The blood was running off his face in rivulets. I got some wet washcloths and tried to staunch the flow while simultaneously fending off a very concerned Sammy and calling the vet. They told me to apply pressure and bring him in if I couldn't get it stopped or if the cuts were very deep. After I finally got it stopped this is what I found. . .

Absolutely nothing! There must be a small puncture wound about an inch from his eye. He's obviously fine.

As I scrubbed the garage floor on my hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water a disturbing thought dawned on me. I hope to God we never have to have some crime scene investigation team in our garage. If they shine those blue lights on my garage floor I'm gonna have a hell of a lot of explainin' to do!