Quick Danny update.
He was a good dog for a bit and then he reverted back to his naughty ways. I've blogged about the usual stuff so much in the past, it's practically become "normal Danny".
Yesterday, however, he outdid himself. I came back home about 9pm to see Danny scurrying about in the garden. When he saw us, he shot up the stairs and whined like some great injustice had been done.
Me being the gullible owner, thought he had been mercilessly chucked outside sans his dinner. So I pick him up and brought him into the house.
It turned out that he did have his dinner (and more, seeing that parents sneak him tidbits when I'm out), had been brought down to sleep but had escaped into the garden.
Feeling a lot less sorry for him, I held on to him and propped my butt on the armrest of the sofa. Danny, in the mean time, was getting really frustrated at being so close to so many objects but not being able to get at them. He struggled like his life depended on it and I tightened my grip on him. Before I knew it, I fell backwards onto the sofa.
And because he was still wriggling madly, I was pulled off the sofa onto the floor. In my descent, I hit my leg on the coffee table.
I now have a two-inch-by-one-inch swollen black bruise on my thigh curtesy of the dog.
Danny isn't too bothered. I'm the biggest object he's damaged in his one and a half years of life. It's quite an achievement.
PS: Thought of taking a photo of the bruise but didn't want to spoil everyone's dinner.
PPS: Thought also of taking a photo of Danny but didn't want to spoil MY dinner. Maybe another day when I stop being mad at him.
