Shawn L. Bird

I’m sporting quite a pretty purple bruise on my ankle today. It hurts, but I have to say it’s probably payback, and so I’m not grumbling too loudly.

OJ is really ticklish.  I tease him by tickling him between the pads of his toes.  He twitches and mutters at me while I giggle fiendishly at him.  Technically this is supposed to be de-sensitizing him to having his feet touched to make it easier to groom him.   Apparently, it’s not working.

Yesterday he was lying on the floor and I was sitting beside him clipping his feet.  I was working between the pads of one of his back legs when he gave a mighty twitch.  One might even be inclined to call it a kick.  Whatever it was, it was powerful.

He connected with the clippers, which apparently I was not holding quite firmly enough.  Heavy professional clippers.  Propelled by the force of OJ’s kick, the energy transferred like a physics lesson. They went flying out of my hand and nailed me on the ankle bone.

I grabbed the humming machine and muttered something very lady-like.

OJ gave the slightest smirk, and settled his head back onto the floor. 

Today I am branded with a letter on my ankle.  I can’t quite decide what it is.  Perhaps G for “Gotcha” or perhaps L for “Loser!”

One for OJ.