Toe-tally Unbelievable

We had to dash to the vet again last night.

An emergency. Mum practically had the lights flashing. Bells, whistles and alarms.

And no. Before you think the worst, it wasn’t me. It was the big boy.

Raffy (drum roll) had hurt his toe! Yes folks, his toe.

He had a boo-boo on his toesy-woesy. Ahhhhhh. Everyone send roses.

Sigh….

The greatest baby actor ever known

He just couldn’t bear to have me the centre of attention for a while. He had to try and share it.

So now he is on anti-inflammatories and told only to do little walks. He isn’t even limping today.

I have to admit yesterday it did seem more dramatic.

He was limping a little at the dog park and by the time he got home he wouldn’t put his weight on that leg (should have gone to Hollywood that dog!).

He didn’t eat breakfast and played the ‘I am such a sick dog’ all morning.

At one point he struggled to get to his feet.

He made such a drama of it that Mum and Dad weren’t sure if it was his paw or his joints. He did this funny side-wise motion with his front leg which made it look like he was trying out for a baton twirling competition.

At the end of the day they took him to the village vet.

I went too.

The vet was so pleased to see me (of course). He commented on my new hair style and said I looked younger than ever. He’s okay that vet. He has very good observational skills.

He examined the boy and discovered his toe was swollen. All those dramatics for a toe. I ask you. I was embarrassed, I’m not sure how Mum and Dad felt but I couldn’t believe all that fuss for a swollen toe. If it wasn’t for the vet giving me treats it would have been a total waste of my time.

 

Of course as soon as we get back Mum googles things and discovers that there is a cancer standard poodles can get that can start in the toe so she is on toe watch now.

What can you do with her?

Twice a day they squirt these anti-inflammatories into his mouth and praise him for standing there and being so good.

I would be good.

Squirt it in my mouth. It apparently tastes really nice.

If he thinks a sore toe gives him bragging rights over pancreatitis he is sorely mistaken.

I am toe-tally out of sympathy!!

Love – Zena, the put-upon Princess

The Stylish Princess

Winter has come to Melbourne.

Only for a few days, but unpleasant for those of us who don’t like getting our paws wet. Of course the big boy doesn’t care. It takes him about twenty minutes of standing in the rain before he realises he is getting wet!

What’s that saying? ‘No sense, no feeling?’

I wouldn’t wish to cast aspersions on him but….. you can make up your own mind.

Me? I am made of finer stuff. Never mind that my ancestors nimbly navigated the rocks of the Himalayas in the snow and ice. I don’t. And I won’t.

Take this morning. The big boy went out first because he was going on a longer walk. I stayed curled up in my bed and was more than happy anticipating my breakfast.

Suddenly Mum gets up and puts her coat on.

‘Oh, we’re going out’ thought I. ‘Fine.’

I stand up and move to the door. Mum puts on my new coat which by the way shows the enormous faith she had in my getting over the pancreatitis because she bought it when I was ill.

It isn’t just any coat either. It is a Pawberry. I’ll give you a picture, it is very chic.

See…… Great Style 🙂 It’s the way you wear it of course!

Anyway. Off we go. I am looking fabulous in my new coat and I’m anticipating the lovely sniffs and adventures of each bush and pole. 

Then we got outside.

Ugh!

It wasn’t actually raining, but it was windy and rain was in the air. I couldn’t believe it. After all these years doesn’t Mum know me better than that?

We got to the first roundabout before she realised I wasn’t actually enthusiastic. Perhaps the fact that I was two paces behind her and shooting her reproachful looks finally got through. 

‘Do you want to go home?’ she finally asked.

Of course I wanted to go home. Who in their right minds wanted to be out with the wind blowing up places the wind shouldn’t be allowed and with everything wet and cold. I had a warm bed that was missing me, a breakfast that was overdue and central heating. Why would I want to be outside?

So we came back.

Gee. Sometimes Mum can be really dumb.

But I did look great in the coat and for that I thank her.

Raffy was so impressed with my new apparel he decided I was a great accessory and decided to take me for a walk. I am in great demand.

Love from the Princess.

The Bitch is Back!!!

Hello all. It’s me. (Don’t you hate it when someone says that on the phone and you have no idea which ‘me’ it is?).

This is my annual catch up which I’m hoping to make more regular again.

Cover girl me before the sickness

It has been a menses horribilis, (I’m a princess I can pinch ideas from the Queen of England ;-))

You won’t believe what has happened to me.

It all started about ten days ago…..

I wasn’t feeling well. Nothing to do with my itching but I really felt a little bit sick. I didn’t stop eating though. No siree! You won’t catch me giving up my food for a little illness. Or at least that is what I thought to begin with.

I tried to get it through to the family that I wasn’t myself and they did realise it but we none of us knew what was going on. I put my tail down, I willed Mum to fix it but all she did was cuddle me.

Don’t get me wrong. I like cuddles but it didn’t fix the problem. Then one night I got some pain in my tummy and then I began to feel really sick.

Then I was really sick. All over the kitchen floor.

That day I didn’t eat anything and by the evening I was feeling rather sorry for myself. I just wanted to be left alone. Fortunately Raffy doesn’t bother me even when I’m feeling well so he wasn’t a problem. Although to be fair to the big guy he was a bit upset. Even now I am not sure if that is because I was getting tons of attention or he was worried.

When I stopped eating Mum knew something was really wrong. Especially when I didn’t eat the next day either. She thought I was dying. I thought I was dying. Raffy thought I was dying.

But……. I’m still here.

I got whisked off to my lovely new vet in the village who took me in a back room (is that allowed?) and stuck a needle in me. Apparently he wanted some of my blood, well, I am special so who could blame him.

He gave me something to stop me being sick and we went home.

I still didn’t feel good and I knew Mum and Dad were concerned. Raffy continued to be quiet.

Raffy being quiet

That night Mum left the door open for me and gave me access to their bedroom door if I needed them.

In the early hours of the morning I started to feel sick. I was on the red sofa which Raffy usually takes up so I didn’t want to get down and let him have it back. Next thing you know I’m heaving and Raff comes over. I’m not sure why. Perhaps he was curious. Perhaps he thought he could help. Either way he was dumb.

The upchuck was – I was sick all over him. Past slights revenged in one large vomit.

Almost as amusing was the way Mum and Dad are still trying to work out how the big boy ended up covered in vomit all down his right ear and side. I could tell them, well I couldn’t but even if I could it’s more fun to have them guessing.

Anyway. Back to me. I was still feeling pretty lousy and still not eating. The results of the blood tests came back and I was diagnosed with pancreatitis. Pancreatitis! I couldn’t believe it. Mum watches my diet like a hawk and I’m hardly allowed food at all.

Well, okay I am allowed food but she is a bit of a food police. If only I could get into that cupboard I could easily show her how to feed me properly.

What has me amazed though is that my cousin Boodle, a rather fetching Westie who lives in France was diagnosed as having pancreatitis last year. Can it run in families?

After that things got a bit easier.

My lovely vet gave me a patch of Fentanyl and for a little while I just enjoyed it. As soon as the pain was taken care of I was ready to eat again – so I did.

In fact, we have just been back to the vet and I have put on weight. I guess Mum’s idea of three small meals a day are closer to my idea than I originally thought!

So I am on the road to recovery and we hope it is a one off event. I was a bit anxious that I was going to have to go on a tasteless, fat free diet for the rest of my natural but my lovely vet has said to re-introduce my normal food because he is hoping it was just an acute event. As am I.

So this is all good news.

Except I am still wondering about karma.

I was in my bed Sunday morning and something sort of told me to get up and move into the lounge. I don’t normally do that until Mum has been up, cuddled me and given me breakfast.

As soon as I did the huge picture which hangs above my bed crashed down breaking the glass and my bed was covered in a heavy picture frame and glass. That could have been me. Try explaining that one to the vet. He would have had canine services calling around.

So I’ve had a close shave twice during the last seven days and it has made me reflect that life is too short not to eat bacon.

What do you mean I can’t eat bacon?

Sausage? No?

Gee……… how can I torment Raffy. Life has to have some meaning.

Me – recovering

Love from Zena, the Warrior Princess who is warring on a new front – old age and bad health. More to come.