Don’t worry; he’s fine.

So, I’ve been waiting for the dental floss to work its way through Lil’ Frankfurter’s system.

And waiting.

And waiting.

I think maybe his body actually digested it. I use the woven kind – not the plastic tape – on account of my freakish, you-have-the-gums-of-an-80-year-old-smoker periodontal issues. I’m starting to think that this just provided a little more fiber in his body.

I’m both relieved and a bit disappointed. However, I caught everyone’s favorite mini doxie carrying an almost-empty box of tampons around the house. Because once you’ve fought dental floss and won? Well, it’s time to take on more substantial opponents.

He seemed really disappointed when I confiscated the tampons. I can picture aiding in the digestion of floss. But digesting a tampon? No. And you know that would involve some expensive emergency veterinary care.

But Lil’ Frank did require a little emergency care this weekend. My mom and I kept finding blood on our legs, but we couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Finally, I realized that the carpeted stairs in my folks’ house had caused Lil’ Frank to get carpet burn on the pads behind his ankles.

My sweet mama worked her magic with gauze and tape.

Yes, this is the most pathetic doxie photo ever taken. Ever. In the history of doxies.

But isn’t there part of you want wants to sing, “He’s a maniac! Maniac! On the floor! And he’s dancing like he’s never danced before?” Let’s face it: Lil’ Frank rocks those legwarmers.
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