Thursday 19 April 2007

Owwooooo... Poorly Girl

Woe woe and thrice woe!

Woe is me. Although I seem OK to Dad as he breakfasts and then heads off to work, by the time Mum gives me the morning walk I am feeling a bit miserable and acting strange, circling and distracted as if decidedly uncomfortable. Back indoors I refuse breakfast. For a dog that will normally fight to win all three breakfasts, this is a major symptom and Mum is very worried. When she picks me up I have a little go at shivering - more of a full body tremor, so the humans decide to whizz me off to the vets

An appointment is booked and Dad drives back from work to taxi me. Of course I am so pleased to see Dad, I charge round the side of the house and bounce around on my back legs, like a fully healthy pup (oops), and lunge in a convincing manner at a proffered "sweetie". Mum growls - "You better not be faking it, you little rat!". Such sympathy. She even suggests that maybe I have a spelling test at school today and am trying to get out of it. (The voice of experience, Mum?)

Meg was found yesterday with a very skanky smelly version of that big knuckle bone you can see in our "carnivorous" post a few days ago. The same one - and you know how hot it's been in Kent! The humans, being mean, usually throw these away after a few hours of gnawing, but we managed to disappear this one, laying it down in the bone cellar to mature a while. The humans do not know where this is..... :-))

I am quiet enough and mopey in the car that you'd know all is not well. Ah well, I am off to the vets, where a very nice locum lady pokes, prods, manipulates limbs, takes temperature (ooh! They don't like it up 'em!), and can't find anything specific wrong. So I get an antibiotic jab and wormer tablets and Dad gets separated from a wad of money (He's not complaining too much!) and we return home. I am, incidentally, 6.8 kgs.

Mum opts to work from home to supervise me (We love that broad-band) and later that day Dad texts to ask how we are. Mum texts back "Lying out in the sun". Dad replies "Hmmmm - Exhausted from all that play-acting, I expect"

The Nerve!

Deefer the Really Sick

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