Opened the door and it’s a winter wonderland out there – our first SNOW of the season.
The swelling has subsided on my face (you should see the HORSE PILLS I have to consume) so my mum said we could could for a proper walk. That means togged up with halti, lead and today, cos the snow was still falling, my gorgeous red Ruffwear Aira waterproof jacket. It was bliss, even though she said no ball in case I hurt my mouth.
See, HORSE PILLS!!!
Barely a week since I was at the vet and I’m back again today. I was really off colour yesterday and retreated to my bed even though my mum was cuddled on the sofa. I yelped a couple of times and she had a good look at me: I’ve got swelling on my cheek, I’m lopsided!
Lovely Spanish vet, knee high to a grasshopper, fusses me then lifts me onto the examining table, all 24.8kg of me. Bet she isn’t much more.
The verdict is that I may have been stung as there are no lesions in my mouth or nose and none of my teeth are loose. Given anti-inflammatory/painkilling injection plus antibiotic pills just in case. She thinks I’ll soon be right but i know my mum with take me back if I don’t improve quickly.
Patient update 29/11/2017
Swelling has subsided a bit overnight and I was full of beans this morning. However, it’s been sleeting all night and still pretty miserable outdoors so it was a quick turn down the street. My mum says she can’t take me to the park until she’s sure the halti won’t hurt my face …cos I pull on the lead without the halti.
Me and Cleo were pronounced fit and healthy on our visit to the vet tonight for our booster vaccinations. The diva is the same weight as last year – 4.6kg and I’ve lost a bit and am 24.8kg, down from around 26kg. I put on weight last summer when I was recuperating from my broken leg when I was on a very restricted exercise regime. My mum couldn’t bear to cut down on my food when I wasn’t able to run around and enjoy myself.
Cleo yelled all the way there but was calmer coming home. Must admit I thought we were going to the beach even though it was pitch dark. Bustled into the surgery, got weighed, checked over and admired, quick injection and back in the car.
Marley’s turn next, tee hee.
My feline pal Fiddler, the Irish mom’s old man, died at the weekend. I liked Fiddler: he was a gentleman of a cat, treated me with respect not like the other two who tease me, play with my tail and jump on me.
He stayed by Irish mom all night as he faded and died in the morning. I knew he was gone over the Rainbow Bridge when I sniffed him. I helped bury him in a beautiful spot by a big oak tree overlooking the sea.
Sleep well, Fiddler.
An ode for all cats who have passed over the Rainbow Bridge, sung to the tune of Fiddlers’ Green.
Dogwuff! 