It’s late afternoon and I’ve only now found out from my mum that it’s National Dog Day. All day long I could have been out celebrating. Now I’m too bushed and fit for just cuddling up with my toys. There’s a new fluffy fox with a tail as extravagant as mine which the sprog gave me. She has a mountain of soft toys even though she’s almost a teenager.
Horror of horros, there’s blood! My mum is clipping me in the back yard and suddenly, there’s blood on my white bits. WHAT has she done? Looks carefully and no wounds on me – it’s her own hand she’s nicked. Am I grateful or what?
Getting used to these electric clippers now and, d’you know, I’m getting to like the experience. If you ignore the buzzing, it’s like a full body massage, a pamper treatment. I’m up for that anytime. I love being brushed as well; do a dance afterwards.
Never thought I would say that after my trauma with buzzy electric things. I scamper right out of it when the vacuum appears and the time my mum tried to dry me with her hairdryer was AWFUL. I’m such an adaptable dog.
Marley Cat has disgraced himself two days on the trot – nibbled the top off a cheese and bacon quiche yesterday then licked the butter today. My mum is incandescent.
After lunch with a friend, she put a cover over the last slice of quiche but cleverclogs tipped it off and helped himself. I was the beneficiary because after that it wasn’t fit for human consumption.
This morning she’s making bacon sandwiches and finds him licking the top of the butter in the dish.
She puts the lid on, goes away while the bacon cooks and comes back to discover he’s knocked one slice of bread off the other (supposed precaution to avoid said cat having a go) and licked more butter!
He’s now hanging his head in shame, in the proverbial doghouse. Looks as if he’s in the summerhouse to me. I thought she said the summerhouse wasn’t a dog kennel…
Update July 14
More horrors from the cat! He pinched cake which had been left under a teatowel overnight – crumbs on the counter and a big scoop out of the tin. I was allowed some of the rest for breakfast but the remains went in the bin. I would never steal food…
Signed off by the vet this evening – I’m good to go! Not full pelt, mind you, just gradual build up of exercise. Apparently it takes 12 weeks for a bone to heal fully and I’m not there yet, though my mum says she will probably never throw a ball for me again. Huh.
We went on a different walk this evening – to a local quarry with unusual scents and animals. There were some brown hoppy things which turned and darted off when they saw me, just leaving a flash of white tail. Rabbits says my mum. Hmm, thought that was a dog food flavour.
And ducks, lots of ducks. No? Geese. Ah well, they had feathers, swam on top of the water so they looked like ducks to me. Ponders: that might be a good variety of dog food…
Passed my post op x-ray at the vet surgery with flying colours. I’m healing just they way they want me to and can slowly increase the amount of exercise. Got to go back in another four weeks for a final check but my mum is so pleased and treated me to a homemade chicken and rice dinner, just the same as she was eating, when I got home.
I was pretty bushed after the anaesthetic so didn’t do much last night other than sleep but today I’m off to bootcamp and the Irish cousins. No galloping on the stairs, though, that has to be on the lead. An no balls or running, just gentle gambolling. And I thought only Wombles gambolled…
I’ll be back home tomorrow cos there’s a street party and the promise of lots of lovely food. We had a street party for the Queen’s diamond jubilee and it was fantastic – lovely people and doggy friends. My mum is making sausage rolls, flapjack and a lemon and blueberry cake in a new Nordic Ware tin she brought from New York. I can smell the butteriness from here.