She’s been going round all day clutching her head and looking like something I dug up. I asked her what the problem was, but all I got was ‘My graine.’ Not sure what her graine is, but I don’t think I want one. Doesn’t look much fun to me. She’s sneezy too.
Don’t you just hate it when they are ill? You don’t know what to do for them…and you can’t explain what’s going on… or reassure ’em that you won’t take them to the vet. They don’t understand…
Not that you’ll catch me anywhere near the vet if I can help it. She prob’ly knows that already. They stick things in you there. And they have slippery floors so you can’t run away. And the table’s too high to hide under. And its too clean and still smells of fear. And other stuff.
No, I don’t like the vet.
I don’t think she’s too keen on going to the vet’s either. She’s got the Big Vet’s tomorrow. I’ll prob’ly keep out of her way a bit when she comes back from there. She’s usually all humpy and grouchy.
She smells funny when she comes back as well and I know they’ve stuck things in her too, cause she leaks sometimes… but she won’t let me lick her better. Odd ideas you two-legs. She says she knows I only want to make it clean…and that there is a good reason why the Dogs of Ancient Egypt were viewed as healers of wounds… but, she says, if my breath smells that bad, she’s not convinced there’s only good stuff in there…
Well, she’s the one that feeds me, so she should know. I keep telling her a diet of salmon and chicken would be just fine by me… There’s no pleasing some two-legses…
Where was I? Oh yes… so she’s none too good and I’ve seen plucked chickens look livelier than she does. We didn’t even get my second walk today… she just came home early and flopped. Wouldn’t even throw the ball…so I knew she wasn’t right.
So I thought I should do the blogging for her today.
And I think she should just curl up on the sofa for a bit and I’ll go and keep her feet nice and warm.
Catch you later,