Road to disaster

I listened to the media over reacting to the possible Swine Flu pandemic. Which I shouldn't have probably, since I have a particularly good immunity to flu of all kinds. I mean, I haven't had it since I was twelve and that was a whole lotta decades ago. But, I listened.( Cue in the ominous music here.) We were going to stay in town but drive the RV to Sea World, ride all the water rides I generally refuse to go on and go back to the RV and change clothes. We also planned to see Wolverine this week end, but then I thought, "There could be a lot of people in close proximity at both those places and a lot of people could mean getting sick people. So, I said, "Let's go back to the beach this weekend. There's nothing to stop us. We'll be away from people, out in the fresh air. And this time we'll take Chili."Her allergies have been so severe that she is on steroids and I thought the sea air and salt water might help the intense itching. My thought was to see how she traveled, in hopes of not having to board her. THAT WAS A REALLY BAD IDEA. (More ominous music here.)

The drive up the coast was uneventful. We parked at the beach side campgrounds. Day was beautiful: a perfect beach day. I could hardly wait to get down on the sand with the three dogs. I took Chili out to pee first since she has bladder issues and since she and Ginny have some sort of weird leash issues and can't be walked together on leash. Then Danny walked Ginny and Abby while I made lunch, which I put on the RV table. I put the dogs food in their dishes and set them on the kitchen counter. The door opened, Chili lunged at Ginny before she even got all the way up the steps and they were at it. Fortunately, we got them separated right away and no damage was done to either dog. I don't know why Chili got food aggressive on the RV. While we don't feed them in the same room at home they often stand shoulder to shoulder when I am preparing the food and never get nuts about it.

We fed Ginny in the RV bathroom. Then we went down to the beach. All was well for about forty minutes walking down the beach, The dogs ran in the surf, chased birds, Chili chased a ball. Then, on the way back for no reason I can think of, Chili lunged at Ginny and they were at it. This time in a real nasty fight. Trying to separate them Danny got bit three or four times and I got three hand wounds and an arm scratch. I also fell completely in the ocean, which meant that the beach bag went too. My really good camera got submerged and was destroyed. At least, thank God, I had left my iPhone behind. Chili and I sat in the ocean for awhile letting the water wash the blood away and then it occurred to me that maybe since we were both bleeding we shouldn't be where sharks might be. We walked the forty minute walk back to the campground with me dripping blood from my hand all the way, smiling and pretending nuthin' was wrong as we passed folks on the sand.

Ginny, as far as we can tell, has no wounds but Chili has a nasty neck wound under all her long hair.

Well, needless to say, our overnight at the beach had to be cancelled. After cleaning everybody up as much as possible, we decided to go home. I began washing the lunch dishes and stowing stuff away. Then, things got worse. Abby threw up her lunch all over the sofa bed, my good shoes, and everything else in range of dog projectile vomiting. My guess is that she drank sea water. Forty five minutes later, I was still cleaning that up as best I could with my fingers still bleeding all over the place.

We are now home. It is five hours later. It hurts like Hell to type this, although I've been beaten up much worse in the past by one thing or another. I am probably going to lose a thumb nail and I haven't even looked at the worst wound under two band aids yet. It probably needs a stitch or two. Everybody says don't get in the middle of a dogfight. Let them work it out. Ha. Let them kill each other is what would happen. If Chili starts fights with Ginny, Chili won't submit. Chili doesn't give a rat's ass about being torn apart. She takes a lickin' and keeps on provoking more. Chili is an Australian Cattle Dog. ACDs have Dingo DNA.

I have the nasty blood and vomit soaked towels and sofa throws and rugs in the washer and the smelly clothes in the dryer...except for the nasty ones I am still wearing. I am going to take a shower as soon as I finish this post. Danny just finished the rest of the RV cleanups. Some friggin' week end this turned out to be. Should have taken our chances with the swine germs.

We probed through all the hair and cleaned out Chili's wound. It looks like a gaping mouth and may need stitches. She's on antibiotics. I am not going to spend the next six hours at the Emergency Vet as I have done in the past. Not tonight anyway.

Oh by the way, Chili's allergic skin is much much better. I was right about that anyway. Next week end when we go to Atlanta, I guess she will go back at the vet's boarding facility again. Now, I'm even leery of doggie day care. Can't take a chance of her getting possessive of a toy or anything else. Anybody have Ceasar Milan's number? Help me, O Obi-Wan Milan. You are my only hope.

PS: I took some great pictures of the dogs on the beach but can't post them since my camera drowned.

TTFN.