Poor Baxter had to take an emergency trip to the vet. This morning we woke up to not only trees powdered with lovely snow (like the Cosmic Baker had dusted them with a giant powdered sugar sifter!), but also a ruptured anal gland for Baxter. No elegant maladies for my dog, no siree!
Against all hope, my work is not closed due to the "inclement weather" featuring snow drifts higher than toetop in the heigher elevations, so I was forced to take half a sick day to deal with my poor dog's butt. He is again resting comfortably at home (actually, kind of playing with Lily, which is a good sign). He is looking forward two weeks worth of anitbiotics and daily warm compresses for his butt. And who said that dog ownership wasn't glamorous?