I slept for a bit last
night then lay awake listening out for my dog. At 4am I felt I couldn’t leave
him anymore and came down to find him asleep. He looked up when I came to his
basket. With a little encouragement he got up and went to the garden, then ate Rolo’s
biscuits.
We both went back to
bed, and when I came down at 6.30am he wagged his tail when he saw me. I took
that to be a good sign, then he refused his breakfast. He did walk round the
garden and have a wee, but he was walking very awkwardly. I thought it was the
catheter still in his front leg which was upsetting him; that could be taken
out.
I set the washing
machine to chew the last of the laundry whilst I watched the last episode of “Top Boy”, then once the laundry was hung
out I took my dog to the vets. For the third time we were first in the queue
outside waiting for them to open.
The nice vet lady said
she was pleased with his progress, took the catheter from his leg and gave him
some more medications. She then brought him back to me. Today wasn’t a day in
dog hospital.
Vets are rather
amazing. When I’m not well I can tell the doctor exactly what’s wrong, how long
the symptoms have been going on, where it hurts, and if the medicine is working.
Animals however just seem to be a bit off-colour and the vet has to figure it
out with nowhere near so many clues. From what we can work out my dog has eaten
something which has given him very dodgy guts. The pain of a bloated gut has
made him walk awkwardly which has set off the spondylosis he developed when he
slipped a disc a couple of years ago. The vet says he is on the mend, but it
will be a slow process.
"Daddy’s Little Angel
TM" met me at the vet’s; we took my dog home and settled
him. We then drove out to Ramsgate. "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
had arranged to buy a wardrobe and I was to collect it. As the A28 was closed
we had to go via Challock. It was as well we went that way. I had an email this
morning. Apparently there was a geo-coin in one of the caches I’d archived on
Friday. Could I retrieve it? I’d actually been to all of the caches that I’d
archived when I went round with Rolo. This one had been buried when a tree had
collapsed on it. I hadn’t been able to get to it on Friday; but since I’d been
asked I thought I’d have another try. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get at the
cache- there was several tons of tree on it.
We made our way to
Ramsgate. I was glad to see the chap selling the wardrobe had taken the thing
to pieces. That made getting it into the car a lot easier. And with the car
loaded with the ingredients of a wardrobe we came home. Via the
wonderfully-named Hengist way and McDonalds.
Normally I would have
hung around to interfere with the building of the wardrobe, but I wanted to get
home to my dog. I’d assumed he’d still be in his basket; as I walked in to the
house he ran from his basket to see me. I was so happy, but after a dozen paces
he stopped awkwardly and cried. He *really*
needs to take things easy. But the fact that he’d got up and come to see me was
a major advance on how he’d been over the last few days.
I showed him his lead
and he clearly got excited, so I put his lad on him and took him and Rolo for a
walk. We walked at a snail’s pace, and walked the shortest “round the block” that is possible
locally. Even so a walk of a few hundred yards took fifteen minutes, and he was
clearly flagging toward the end of the walk.
I lifted my dog onto
the sofa and sat with him for the afternoon and evening. There was all sorts of
drivel on the telly. “Fantastic Journey”
was on; I’d not seen that for years. “The
Seventh Voyage of Sinbad” was quite entertaining; the special effects were
dire but the film makers knew that so the film had a plot to make up for it. “Are You Being Served – The Movie” was
rather sad. But the period drama “Doctor
Foster” was quite good if you like that sort of thing (which I do)
As I watched the telly
my little dog snuggled next to me. And his condition changed from one minute to
the next. Sometimes he would be sleeping contentedly and relaxed. Other times
he would be rigid and burping. And other times he would be quivering
uncontrollably. Most of the time his tummy was gurgling.
He's just been out for
a tiddle and had his medications forced down his neck, and is currently laying
in his basket absolutely spaced out on tramadol. He’s not eaten anything since
4.30am.
The vet says he is on
the mend. I must trust her judgement…
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