Don't Panic...

She's fine.

There's that moment in the Harry Potter movies, where Mrs. Macgonagal looks at Harry, Hermione and Ron and goes, "Why is it always you?"

Ron replies, "Believe me, Professor--we ask ourselves the same question."

Geoffie.

If anyone is going to get sick, it's Geoffie.


When she weighed three pounds she stepped on a fox tail, it penetrated her widdle foot, and she was the sorriest 3 lb. piece of fluff on the planet.

When she was two years old, I went away for the weekend and came back to her life-threatening eye infection.

A year later, I gave three dogs a big pork soup bone to gnaw on. One dog got a chunk of bone too big to digest in her teeny digestive track and almost died.

And this?

We have no idea.

It started out as a boo-boo, and then she chewed on it and it became an ouchie, and today she was three-legging it around the park and now she has a cone of shame and a goblin paw.

And she's been force fed pills and had icky stuff rubbed on her skin.

She is every bit the sad panda.

But she is, indisputably, ours.