Bad week

My heart has been a snarl of black snakes and barbed wire all week. My head played video loops of the brutal stabbing of my ex-sister-in-law -- her hands nearly severed, her blood and life nearly drained away on the garage floor as her blood-drenched attacker sat calmly on the sofa -- all this interwoven with anxiety growing into fear of the mess of my poor dog's skin and ears and feet. Oh, what fun.

Three sulfur baths since I got home, Homie shows sprouting new hairs in black crusty bald spots. But his raw over-licked skin seeps blood, his front paws are swollen, he stinks even after a bath, and he moves like he can hardly bear to move. Yesterday I faced up to the fact that he needed outside help; it was too late for mere baths to work magic. He scratched off a lump of crusty tissue on one ear, leaving a square inch of raw meat. The lump hung by a thread, then disappeared. I think he ate it!

I took him to the vet today. She was as frightened as me. He got a soothing bath, a big antibiotic and anti-inflammatory shot, medicinal powder on the bloody ears and toes, and had blood drawn for extensive testing. Allergy? Infection? Auto-immune disorder? Cancer? Multiple problems? Aggravated by stress of separation anxiety? Answers will arrive piecemeal over the next week or so. I feel better but am still worried and nervous.

All this darkness has been awful.