Drive By? Run By?

Either way, it was still a shooting.

Although I suppose technically being shot with a BB gun isn't quite as dramatic as Grand Theft Auto: Horse Ranching in Texas would have you believe.

Miss Puppy has been out with her friends, doing doggy things like smoking crack, chasing horses, running head-first into sliding glass doors.

With any luck, she will not do this ever again. She has officially had more antibiotics prescribed for her in her lifespan than The Boy.

I wish I could claim her as a dependent and add her to my health insurance.

"These are pretty big," the nurse told me, handing over an enormous bottle of pills. "Stick it in a hot dog and she'll never know it's there."

She carefully ate the hot dog, and deposited the pill on the kitchen floor.

I stuck it in a ball of cream cheese.

She loves cream cheese.

So much that she could not bear to alter the flavor with her pill, which she kindly returned.

Pepperoni? No.

Hamburger? No.

Brownie? No.

I finally picked up the slightly damp, sticky pill, opened her mouth and placed it on the back of her tongue. She immediately swallowed it, and tried to lick my entire face. "Oh! You wanted me to eat that thing! Why didn't you say so?"

She seems much happier, and is resting comfortably without picking at herself.