SIX WEEKS!!

It's official; I'm six weeks from my near death experience and feelin' grand! I even got to play with my girlfriend, Ethel!! I also finally got a bath this week after waaaay too long, so my pits don't stink so much, and my people are not smelling their hands after petting me. I gotta admit, I was pretty rank. Got my claws clipped and my paws trimmed, so you'd think that I'm looking pretty good, eh? NOT!

Here's the deal. While my fur is starting to grow back where Dr. Heidi and team shaved me, and my MASSIVE chest scar is disappearing under my fur, I still look pretty weird on the sides. And . . . and . . . my old fur is falling out! Good grief, what's a dog to do. Mom says it's a result of the trauma my body endured. YA THINK????

I'm not buying that though. I happen to know that every year at this time, I "blow" my coat. That's dog lingo for losing my summer coat so I can grow my winter coat. It's just that the timing sucks this year, cuz I'm needing all the fur I can get. So in addition to having white sidewalls where I was shaved, I'm dealing with dog pattern hair loss, with big chunks of fur falling out.

That's all to say that, while I'm glad to be alive, I'm really looking forward to the day when my beautiful gold coat will be thick again, and I'll feel all handsome and manly. However, I did learn a lesson through all this: my parents love me enough to save my life (regardless of the cost), to nurse me back to health, and to love me no matter how bad I look. I guess that's just what parents do.

Thanks, Mom and Dad!