<$BlogRSDURL$>

Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

“WHAT`S THAT, BOY? TIMMY`S FALLEN DOWN THE WELL?” 

Eventful doggy times here.

Kaiju, having had a bout of memorable and expansive sickness and diarrhoea, and demonstrating this extensively on the way to the vet, emerging as a soggy bundle, was sent home with a soothing paste, which he was absolutely unwilling to take.  I was reduced to smearing it on the inside of his lips, leaving him resentful and me very sticky indeed. 

But it worked.  However he was still not well, and screamed when lifted or handled.  I could not find the sore place when i went over him, but he was obviously very unhappy and shy of being lifted.  Another visit to the vet was indicated.

On the morning this was due, I let him and 3 others out for a last run .  Only 2 came back.  Kaiju  had disappeared.  I searched and called.  Then Sparkle
appeared at my side.


Sparkle and Kaiju Driffield 16
Sparkle and Kaiju at a recent show, waiting their turn.



I should point out that Sparkle and his close friend Kaiju recently spent a few days with a friend.  I had phoned to find out how they were, and was told that the quiet and reserved Sparkle had…changed.  He had taken over.  He had insisted that all the bitches were now his, and guarded them.  He stole food from dominant dogs.  Was he confident enough to cock his leg?   “Everywhere!” I was told.  She said it was as if a shy boy from a quiet public school had gone on a lads` weekend in Magaluf….”but I promise he didn`t get any piercings or obscene tattoos”.  

And certainly he came back a different dog.  Mature and grown up (but still cautious around Fidget).  A real improvement, I thought. At last he was an adult.  And not before time.

So here I was, searching for Kaiju, and calling his name, and suddenly Sparkle came.   He barked at me and ran up into what is euphemistically called “the rockery” – once a real one, now a tangle of shrubs and mature trees, all planted as “dwarf conifers” some 40 years ago.  (Be warned- there is no such thing as a dwarf conifer, just ones that take their time to get going)  He turned and  looked at me and barked again.  He came back for me.  I was to follow him.

And, just like Lassie in the old films, he took me to Kaiju, who, faced with pain and the vet, had holed up, fortunately not down the well, which is capped, but in an old field drain.  I would never have found him otherwise.  I was amazed.   And relieved.     Sparkle saves the day!

The story has a happy ending.  Kaiju was not dying from a mystery disease.  Like many Papillon dogs, he is a colossal wimp.  He had strained his neck.  He came home on painkillers and steroids, a much happier dog looking for cuddles and fuss again.  I hope he will soon be over all this.

Meanwhile he has little brown pills and rest.

And his best friend, Sparkle.
Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?