Hammy goes down.

Little Harrison Hamilton Hambone III injured her paw yesterday and has been limping around the house like little pony for 24 hours now (but doesn't that red arm band make her look tough?). Matt and I have turned our loft into a make-shift canine infirmary—accomplished entirely by bringing her treats every hour instead of every 2 hours as normal. We took her to her first Chicago vet today and she put on the normal show of incontrollable shaking and tucking her tail so far between her legs that it nearly hits her nose. This is usually so painful to watch, but I have to admit I was completely distracted by the decor. Since when are vets so nice that you think, "Maybe I could get a job here as a receptionist..."? The biscuits were kept in clear Alvar Aalto Savoy vases ($55-$145) and the examination room had an Eero Saarinen plastic back side chair ($508) backed up against over-sized black & white photographs. I think all this helped (me) cope with the trauma just a little bit. As for Hare, we think she'll be back on all fours in no time.