Symphonia Gastronica

Poor Meg is suffering from a poorly tummy. She wakes Dad to be let out at 03:30 this morning and stays out ages eating grass. By "proper" wake up time she's off food althogether, and ignores her breakfast, which is good news for me as I get to hoover it up when no-one's looking.

She sits on her bed looking pathetic, and with her abdomen making an interesting cacophony of squelches, belches and groans. This, you may recall, is called the Symphonia Gastrica in the local family humour. Megan is not amused, and is definitely feeling sorry for herself. Dad leaves paper down and alerts the Angel B to let her out for comfort stops "in case she explodes".

When dad gets back from work, Angel B reports that she has been sick, and now seems to be recovering. She greets Dad along with the rest of us as enthusiastically as normal, and then walks to her food bowl, noses it against the skirting board with a clunk, and stands back and gruffs at Dad, looking him in the eye as if to challenge him to pretend he doesn't get it!

She ate a hearty supper.

Go Meggie, and thanks for the breakfast

Deefski

Symphonia Gastrica

We all wake to the (loud) sounds of Meggie's guts squelching and gurgling. This in our house is known as the Syphonia Gastrica. Meggie had the same a couple of weeks back and was off her breakfast, just wanting to eat grass, with the inevitable consequences. Sure enough, she's off breakfast today and worries the humans whether to visit the vets. But (as last time) by tonight she's all settled down again and ravenous. Who knows why? Megan (say the humans) has always been our most interesting dog, in alimentary tract terms, sometimes managing to go from poo that is bullet hard to ever so soft in the same dog walk. Doggy humans, I have found, often talk about poo. Dad decides that maybe it's time to try Meggie on an "old girls" dog food variety.

Meanwhile, hurray! I have finally lost my last puppy-tooth, Yesterday when I was exactly 6 months old and a day. Megan, they tell me came "on heat" (what ever that is) at 6 months to the day, but they've checked and I'm nowhere near there yet. They'll tell me about it soon, enough, they say. Something to do with birds, bees, storks and stuff.

Love
Deefer