The carpet strikes again....I think

A few days ago, I had to go to the vet unexpectedly. Let me back up...

Somebody rang the doorbell and I got surprised, so I went NUTS running downstairs to bark at the perpetrator. It turns out it was the lawncare person, a known doorbell ringer and Tony Annoyer. Tony Enemy #2 right below the UPS Man.

My boy slowly followed me down the stairs to get me to pipe down. I'm glad I've finally got him trained to realize resistance is futile and he can't make me stop barking before I get to the door. Anyway, he picked me up at the door and carried me upstairs. When he went to put my down, a drop of blood hit the floor. He was stunned, put me down, and I smeared some blood from my foot onto the carpet. I had torn one of my toenails out WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING. I don't know my own strength when I get riled up like that.

So my boy woke my dad up and they took me to the Vet. Sigh... I was worried, but by the time the doctor saw me my toe had stopped bleeding and all I had to do was get some antibiotics. No shots! WIN!

When we got back home, my boy looked for my toenail but it was nowhere to be found. He thinks I ripped it out on the upstairs carpet (I've gotten a toenail hung in that carpet before), but there was no blood leading out of the upstairs and no blood near the door where I was woofing. Somebody call Nancy Drew! WE GOT US A MYSTERY. A few days later, my mom was going through some laundry....and my toenail fell out of some clothing. My boy thinks the toenail got ripped on the carpet but didn't fall off until he picked me up. It then fell into his shirt pocket and fell out when my mom was sorting the laundry. I'm the only one that could know what really went down, but I'll never tell, dear reader.