After Moon Pie woke up out of her daze last night, she continued to improve.  Mother brought her home to our den, where she drank water, ate some dinner, drank some more water, wandered around the house, drank some more water and basically made herself at home.  We generally encourage our den guests to relax so that they heal faster.  But when making themselves at home includes yelling at 3 am to go outside, we tend to draw the line.  I overheard mother ranting "You slept all day, just so you could be up all night.  If I thought that you were going to act so normal, I would have sent you to your own house."  But none of us could stay upset at the wobbly little pug for very long; even mother continued wear her satisfied smile whenever watching her.
The best part of Moon Pie's whole story was seeing the look on Sweet Sally's face when she trotted in the morning.  "Look at you go" Sally crooned, "You look sooo much better!"  Bea and I were quickly escorted to our villa while Moon Pie got to roam around, eat a scrumptious looking breakfast and be cuddled by Sweet Sally.  It almost makes me want to get sick, just so Sally will hug me.

Enrico came back from the overnight clinic.  There were more than a few similarities with this case, to a little white Fluffy dog we took care of a few months ago.  This little tough Chihuahua had flappy pieces of plastic draining bloody juice from his side, and yet he didn't make a peep.  He didn't have the rotting meat smell that Fluffy had so I figured that he was doing pretty well, but I've learned that it's kind of early to know for sure.  Vocal Vonnie kept fluids running into the tube in his leg and gave him all of his medicine, but if he didn't have to go outside I wouldn't even have known he was there.  Wanting to eat little dogs makes me think that Rottweilers aren't so smart, but they sure know how to pick the toughest dogs to chew on.  So I just have to remember not to act so tough, the next time I see one.