![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHoQUC0q94WE6VCp-u8z8b3A3PVody01RuuKMGHxQ4uZuSH_y_pXAd2RNucehM1Poms1QhWhjQkEdwzqxhhqD9CWo7_54aqoe6dkvdQuiCToy4uSYn-4I3viaQj1VeSrmfJmKNYTf7kPGy/s320/Archie.jpg.JPG)
My title line comes from a silly bit of video which the boys were watching on You-Tube (sorry, the link has long since escaped us, but you might get somewhere with "Man Flu") about man-flu, which shows paramedics screeching up in the blues and twos ambulance to tend a bloke with man flu, hustling his wife out of the way, then telling her to mop his fevered brow and say "Poor poor bunny" to him. It's become a standing joke at Dad's work.
Well, here's Archie on the day of his op looking for all the world like he'd appreciate a few humans mopping his fevered brow and commiserating with him. We love the pink stuffed-toy hippo, by the way. Every dog should have one.
If I'm not mistaken, that's the same marble hearth and same slice of "vet-bed" fleece that we have pics of showing his (and my) Dad, Hector, lying on when we were all new born pups. I will have to dig out some pics and compare.
Have a great weekend
Thinking of you, Arch'
Deefer
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