This weekend, our little lady Grace hurt herself playing in the back yard. We are not sure what happened. One second we were grilling burgers listening to the dogs run around, and then the next second Grace comes limping over like her world just ended.

We think that while she was running around with Crosby, she fell in one of the holes (that she dug) and tweaked something. She didn’t wince when we tried touching her leg, and it obviously doesn’t look broken. She also would stand on it; she just hobbled when she walked.

Since it happened Saturday night, we decided to hold off until Monday to call the vet and see how she got through the rest of the weekend.

Tom carried her practically around the whole apartment Saturday night and all day Sunday. We carefully put her in bed with us and wrapped her all snuggly in blankets and warded off a concerned Crosby so she could rest easily.

Monday I called the vet to find out you could only schedule appointments 2 weeks out, even for emergencies. What!?!?

How do you all define emergency? That’s another topic for another day.

We ended up deciding to watch her for another couple days and then decide to go to a different vet if it gets worse. Since she wasn’t wincing when we touched it, we honestly weren’t sure what more the vet could do besides charge us money.

As I was panicking on how we would help our baby girl, I started noticing something peculiar about her.

This girl has game.

As I let her out to go wobble to a potty spot, she starts playing with Crosby with no inhibitions.

She is racing around again like the Grace we all know and love.

I watched for a few minutes, then scolded the two of them for playing so rough while Gracie was hurt and ushered them back inside.

And low and behold, the limp was back on.

She would look at Tom and I with crying eyes anytime we went up the stairs. Obviously saying, “Oh dear parents, I am dying. Please carry me.”

Then as soon as her or Crosby got an itch to play, the limp was off. She was back to being an instigator.

Then back to poor me, my leg needs to be amputated.

Yesterday when I came home, I was greeted with “boundy turn into a U shape” Grace like nothing ever happened. Then 5 minutes later…”Mom, hold me. The pain is too much.”

We have tried to keep her from being too active, but her little doggy instincts obviously want to be normal again. I keep giving her lectures about not taking too much on and the importance of rest. Then I pull her close for a hug and a kiss because I just wanted my baby girl to feel better.

At least that is until last night when I caught her in her lie, and she knew it.

Tom and I were both sitting on the couch, and I saw Grace put all her weight on her “bad” leg to scratch herself with the other. I looked at her squarely in the eyes and said, “Oh so your leg hurts does it?”

Y’all, you should have seen the look she gave me.

She just froze mid scratch, and she knew she had been compromised.

I caught our dog lying to us!

Tom and I were laughing so hard because our dog dooped us.

To be honest, we are still watching her leg and not walking her like normal to keep undo stress away from the leg/shoulder she seems to be favoring. We aren’t horrible parents, and we really do want her to feel better. But seriously, I think she has been faking the “severity” of her injury to get more attention.

We have been giving her extra love and cuddles, but we are no longer carrying her up the stairs.

If you can wrestle with Crobbers, you can walk the stairs girlie.

Have you been dooped by your pet? Any advice on how to keep a dog still? Do your dogs have you trained?