Paws crossed
I’ve got my paws crossed. Mum is talking to my consultant today to see where we are. All I know so far is that it doesn’t look like an infection in the spine. On the one paw that is good news, as treating that ca be difficult and it can leave lasting damage. On the other paw, it means that we are look at disc degeneration, which is harder to treat and may leave us with difficult decisions. As it is, I am not cooperating on the crate rest. I’ve done a deal with both Mum and Dad that if I promise to be good and simply rest in a corner of the kitchen, then I can spend most of my time there and not in a crate.
When I say I’ve done a deal, it is along the lines of ‘If you want me to stop crying at full pith, then get me out of here.’ I have a very loud voice.
Pebbles’ TV choices
Pebbles has been watching television again. Mum doesn’t watch much television, but Pebbles spotted there was a new series of Clarkson’s Farm. Pebbles simply loves watching the animals. She sits up on the settee between Mum and Dad, completely rivetted to the action on the screen. At one point they were trying to round up sheep and not doing it very well. ‘I could do it,’ said Pebbles. ‘I could do a much better job.’ Mum suspected she was probably right. In fairness, Mum thought she could probably do a better job, based on past experience of rounding up sheep.
For the time being, every night at eight, Pebbles sits nicely by the gate to the lounge, waiting for Mum or Dad to let her through. As soon as they open the dog gate she races to get her favourite spot in the middle of the settee.
Love and licks
Wilma
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