When Good Dogs Go Bad

This is Boomer. He's been our dog since 1999, shortly after Bennett and I got married. I really should say he's more Bennett's dog than mine. Truth is, I'm a cat person. To me, dogs smell. Even worse, they drop big piles of poo all over the yard. This poor soul is even higher maintenance than most dogs. He has lupus and has to take 2-3 pills three times per day. That's a lotta work and expense. Even so, he's been a good dog. Loyal, dependable and good tempered. That is until he got a taste for potty water.

We had a septic leak in our yard this past fall and winter. There was a small free flowing stream of potty water running away from our yard. Boomer decided that this was the best thing since dog biscuits. Long story short, I think it loosened a few screws. He started pacing. Barking at things that weren't there. Running in circles and growling at folks. The icing on the cake as when he bit my youngest on the head this past Saturday. Garrett was trying to give him a hug and the nutbag dog hauled around and bit him on the scalp. I've never seen so much blood. The more G screamed, the more it bled. I finally had to strip him in the tub and hold a cold cloth to his head to get it to stop. The poor kid was traumatized and I don't blame him.

Fast forward a few hours and Boomer is enjoying his new digs at chez Harnett County Animal Control. Poor dog. He's just not the dog he used to be. Between the lupus and the potty water, he's officially gone off the deep end. It's probably better to go that way than to take the bullet he'd be getting for biting one of my kids again.