Imbolc New (Valentine) Moon
Gertie whimpered much of the night, resting her head near Kate’s, her bed on the floor 
next to ours. She got up this morning and, in the way of dogs, Vega tried to play with her. Gertie was too much in pain to respond. She will, however, get back to playing with both Vega and Rigel. The dog world tends not to carry grudges. They are, in many ways, our moral superiors.
This morning we tried to get her back in the bedroom, but she wanted to go outside through the front door. That’s where we let her out after her ACL surgery. She’s in pain; so, she goes out the front door. Only problem is our front door has a broken lock and we’ve not gotten it fixed yet. So Gertie stands in front of the door, waiting for me to open it.
After finally convincing her to go out the back door, she wanders around a bit, slowly, then returns to the inside and, after several ginger repositionings, plops herself down in her crate. That’s her home and her refuge. She feels safe there. I imagine she’ll sleep much of the morning.
We have hypotheses but no definite proof about how she ripped her right canine free from her jaw. This is a tooth that goes up into the bony structure of the face as far as it extends outward. It’s made for tearing, pulling, fighting. It’s designed, in other words, for stress. What kind of event could wrench it out of its forever home, and cleanly at that, we’ll probably never know. But it must have been something.
