The Saga of Pete

You know we love our dog. A lot. I spend serious buck at the gormet doggie bakery getting Pete treats that I know aren't contaminated by bad chemicals from China.

But we also try (keyword: try) very hard to not act like Pete is our child. We promised to never call ourselves Pete's mom and dad. That is reserved only for those of the human variety. And we try really hard not to FREAK OUT and take him to the vet for every little thing. And we promised we would never be those people who spend $500 on their dog. But then recently, this happened (excuse the quality, I took with my phone):

wtf? We decided that Pete must be in an underground boxing community, because his wound was alarmingly simular to Hasim Rahman after his fight with Evander Holyfield.

We aren't sure what he did, but the vet said that he probably had a concussion from it. And then life got worse for my little Pete. They had to shave his head, drain it, and wear a Cone of Shame for 5 days!

And then it still went downhill for the little guy. Somehow, he broke it, and then it had to be ducktaped. How humiliating.

No worries though, here is Pete sans C.O.S., and here we are sans $300 bucks. Not quite $500, but close in my book. Oh well, what can I say, he's our baby puppy.