As I scoffed toast I looked into the Internet. There was a
post on one of the local dachshund groups. Someone’s dog has got dachshund
intervertebral disc disease and was bemoaning the cost of vet treatments. It
was claimed that the same treatment provided by local vets is several thousand
pounds cheaper *if* you drive a few hundred miles to see vets up north.
My Fudge had this condition, and it cost us thousands. We
might have saved a bit if we’d gone to a vet in Yorkshire, but he was under the
vet with this condition for years. Are people so desperate to save money that
they are prepared to spend an entire day going to the vet to drop the dog off
for surgery or a day in dog hospital? And then another day collecting the dog?
“er indoors TM” announced the dogs had
been fed, so I took them for a walk. We drove down to Orlestone, walked our
usual walk of about two miles and didn’t roll in anything disgusting, didn’t
wallow in any swamps, didn’t chase any squirrels, and didn’t see any normal
people to upset. All things considered, rather dull.
We came home and the dogs went to sleep. I wish I had. I heaved
a load of rubbish into the car, and then got all of “Daddy’s Little Angel TM”’s
tat (that I’d got from the lock-up last week) into the hallway.
I took the car load of rubbish to the tip. That place winds me up;
the staff there are incredibly petty and pedantic about what rubbish goes
where, no two of them agree on anything, and what one bloke tells you today
completely contradicts what the same person told you last time. For example the
last time I went there I dropped a pile of scrap metal at the entrance to the
metal skip. A member of staff had a grumble about why I should carry my rubbish
to the far end of the skip and put it on top pf the rubbish already in there.
So today I tried to do that and the bloke who’d grumbled last time when
hysterical because (today) I wasn’t supposed to set foot in that skip
but should pile the rubbish outside.
I then came back to base, loaded up all of “Daddy’s Little Angel TM”’s
tat and drove it down to her. She wanted to go get more tropical fish, so off
we all went. By one of life’s little co-incidences the fish shop is next door
to McDonalds so we got some McLunch. As we scoffed I taught “Darcie Waa Waa TM”
to say “halibut”; that confused the nice lady in the pet shop when we
came to get the fish.
With the first fruit of my loin (and her tribe)
returned to their home I came back to mine. Yesterday I’d got the back bedroom
to the stage where I could get the shelves (and fixings) off of the
walls, and today I spent an hour doing that. It didn’t take much doing, but
clearing up the wreckage afterwards was rather hard work.
No time off work is complete without ironing, and with “er
indoors TM” off bowling I ironed for an hour or so watching
episodes of “Shameless” in which our heroes again “did the dirty deed”
with their pants on.
I’m rather worn out… Again.
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