Its raining cats and dogs
Having animals is causing my life to be filled with much humour and stress at the moment.
My mum and dad are on hols at the moment so we are looking after the family dog, a 14 year old Yorkshire terrier, who has arthritis, is deaf, no teeth and bad breath, oh yes, and also a tendency to get smelly very quickly.
Anyway, needless to say, given his age there are some risks attached with looking after him, mainly that my mum and dad will come home to his ashes and not him.
Woke up on Friday morning after having him in our care for about 12 hours to find he has been sick on the kitchen floor and the other in the lounge (where unfortunately pre animals and boyfriend, red wine drinking friends and takeaways I saw fit to put down a gorgeous beige / cream carpet) the other unfortunately had a lot of blood in it.
Went down the vets, and £60 later, he was off his arthritis medication (watch this space as without this he can barely walk and things were not looking good) and onto being fed fish, rice, eggs or chicken with a QUARTER of a very small tablet in it, three times a day, and to make it more complicated has to have other stuff an hour before he eats!
Anyway, all the egg and fish has made him stink, and you can only imagine the gas!!!! Last night shut him and the cat in the kitchen( putting the cats furry basket on the table as the dog has taken a liking to it and keeps getting in it,which at some time I feel will earn him a claw in the face), only to find that this morning there was no cat, only a foul smell coming from the dogs arse - on closer inspection it transpires the cat has got that desperate for fresh air that she has managed to push open the top window and jump out.
Also came home from a wedding on Friday (which was fantastic, and the bride looked lovely) to find that the dog had managed to climb through the cat flap into the out house, but then obviously couldn't get back in, and found the stone floor to be a little cold, so when we found him, he was actually asleep in the cats litter tray (clean, i hasten to add).
Anyway, must go, have an appointment to keep with my man at Oscars for a fat bastard burger and some sangria.
Thought for the day: Wonder why all small villages have a street called Labernum something?
My mum and dad are on hols at the moment so we are looking after the family dog, a 14 year old Yorkshire terrier, who has arthritis, is deaf, no teeth and bad breath, oh yes, and also a tendency to get smelly very quickly.
Anyway, needless to say, given his age there are some risks attached with looking after him, mainly that my mum and dad will come home to his ashes and not him.
Woke up on Friday morning after having him in our care for about 12 hours to find he has been sick on the kitchen floor and the other in the lounge (where unfortunately pre animals and boyfriend, red wine drinking friends and takeaways I saw fit to put down a gorgeous beige / cream carpet) the other unfortunately had a lot of blood in it.
Went down the vets, and £60 later, he was off his arthritis medication (watch this space as without this he can barely walk and things were not looking good) and onto being fed fish, rice, eggs or chicken with a QUARTER of a very small tablet in it, three times a day, and to make it more complicated has to have other stuff an hour before he eats!
Anyway, all the egg and fish has made him stink, and you can only imagine the gas!!!! Last night shut him and the cat in the kitchen( putting the cats furry basket on the table as the dog has taken a liking to it and keeps getting in it,which at some time I feel will earn him a claw in the face), only to find that this morning there was no cat, only a foul smell coming from the dogs arse - on closer inspection it transpires the cat has got that desperate for fresh air that she has managed to push open the top window and jump out.
Also came home from a wedding on Friday (which was fantastic, and the bride looked lovely) to find that the dog had managed to climb through the cat flap into the out house, but then obviously couldn't get back in, and found the stone floor to be a little cold, so when we found him, he was actually asleep in the cats litter tray (clean, i hasten to add).
Anyway, must go, have an appointment to keep with my man at Oscars for a fat bastard burger and some sangria.
Thought for the day: Wonder why all small villages have a street called Labernum something?
posted by foofoofala @ 8:35:00 PM
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