A brief note:
To friends of the blog who took the bait and believed my April 1st email in which I announced my retirement from blogdom, my sincerest apologies for any psychological or medical inconveniences you may have incurred. Also, kind thanks to those of you who wrote me kind notes urging me to continue blogging.
... and now for the post
Watson and I went for a walk this morning in the heavyish rain. Halfway around the block, he started limping like he does when his paws get too cold in the snow. We stopped, and I saw a big splinter in his toe. I tried to take it out on the spot, but it was too wet and he was too squirmy, so we hobbled home, where I managed to extract the bloody splinter from his ailing paw. He released a few bloodcurdling yelps while I tweezed. Initially, he was angry at me; he believed I was causing him this pain. But we're cool now-- it wasn't long before he was engaging in a pain-free spree 'round the house.
Watson said that as a reward for my heroic rescue effort, I should get a Starbucks coffee and a McDonald's sandwich for breakfast. I protested, but he insisted, said it would be his treat. Turned out that by "his treat", he meant the Starbucks lady would give him a treat. What a sneaky dog. I guess he deserved the biscuit, though, after his paw pain. He thought he might never trot again.