This afternoon, Grandma arrived to get Davy and take him home. He was happy to see her and she petted him for a long time crooning "My old man".
I told her about his escape over the back fence where he hurt himself so badly. I explained that he'd been hobbling around ever since and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. Grandma immediately burst into tears and cried over his suffering. She asked him whatever possessed him to do such a thing and told me she didn't want to put him down. She then perked up and told me that her friend the vet would put Davy down for $20. Grandma loves her loyal companion, but she loves a bargain even more.
I loaded them up into the van heading for North Battleford and waved goodbye. Grandma had already decided that she would sleep on the main floor of her building until Davy was well enough again. Ky just talked to Grandma and apparently Davy is fine. He ran up the stairs like nothing had happened. I think Ky is right, Davy is a miracle dog. Dude just won't die.
Unless the vet offers Grandma $15.
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Crap monkies say "what?"