I should know better

A fun time at the vet - nothing quite like that sinking feeling of lugging three unwillilng bitches to the surgery and feeling both them and your bank balance cringe as you struggle through the door.

But it wasn`t that bad. Dido`s op, after much argument back and forth is pronounced successful. The Grand Old Lady who has been sneezing constantly, had the supreme indignity of having her nose syringed, and came home glowering and snorting - it took two sausage rolls, a lot of Tesco Economy Polony slicing sausage ( a wonderful substance, totally inedible for humans but highly addictive for dogs), and almost all of a turkey breast to get her to talk to me again. And Prudence, who had been limping, has a rash on her feet and has to have them massaged with a cream twice daily. (Add rubbing cream into canine toes to the daft things I have to do...)

Prudence, after intial shock, has decided that this is really very pleasant - you can see her thinking: "So this is what it`s like to have a lady`s maid.....I wonder what else she could be doing for me?"" Meanwhile I rub on desperately, hoping to get her fit for the next big show at the weekend.

I suppose no show would be complete without the usual panic beforehand.

I`d love to get hold of the sage who suggested that keeping dogs lowered your blood pressure and helped to prevent heart attacks.

For a start I`d give him Prudence`s feet to do.

Then he could have the vet`s bill. I`d dial 999 as he had the heart attack.