Winston’s May 2011 blog

Winston here . . . p’rrrrr, p’rrrrr . . .

I haven’t blogged for five months, don’tcha know. Have you missed me?

Akchalee I don’t know what months is. Is it food? I don’t think it can be ‘cos I don’t usually get no food when I blog, just my usual rations which I might tell you is a bit thin at the moment. That’s ‘cos I went to see Kate-the-Vet and after I’d made a BIG fuss of her and she told me I was gorgeous and had wonderful clean teeth she spoilt it by saying I could do with losing just a little bit of weight. Last year Nadia-the-Vet said the same thing and so Mrs Human put me on short rations. I had to catch spiders and flies to make up the difference, don’tcha know.  Do you remember?

Anyway, after a while, everyone (except Mrs H) forgot all about what Nadia-the-Vet said and went back to giving me treats when I asked for them. I ask very nicely and the Humans (except Mrs H) love it and tell me a little won’t hurt. I like it specially when Gillian comes ‘cos she really can’t resist my winning ways and offers to feed me and then she puts lots of food out for me and my tummy gets really stretched – it’s lovely! After that I just sleep and dream for hours and hours.

 Well, this time, Mrs H told Mr H that *I have got to lose weight (she keeps saying that and Mr H just nods and smiles) But she said, ‘I mean it, he’s got to be rationed,’ and Mr H said, ‘But he asks so nicely in the mornings and he really enjoys his bit of chicken/ham/cheese/shrimp/tuna.’ (That’s not all at the same time, course!) In the end he agreed and I was very disappointed, don’tcha know. I thought I had him proply trained. So now he gives me just one little treat and I have to wait for my breakfast before my tummy feels full again.

I tell you, I got so hungry the other night that I opened the cupboard door and dragged out the tube of shrimp treats and a bag of dog biscuits and I tried and tried to open them but I just couldn’t. Course, just before I went to see Kate-the-Vet, Mrs H cut my claws ‘cos I kept getting hooked on things. The other day I got stuck to a cushion and it followed me everywhere. Gus barked, silly boy and Mrs H laughed when she saw me though she tried not to let me see. So course I couldn’t get a good grip on the bag of biscuits.

I’m trying to work out how to get into the fridge now. The Humans have had fridge-raiding cats before so I’m sure I can find a way. I think if I sit and stare at it long enough it will open. I talk to it, too. Watch this space!

The other thing about having blunt claws is that I slide off things. Usually when I stretch up on Mr H’s legs I can hang on but now I just slip off. Never mind, my claws will grow again.

There’s a funny **red thing that appears now and then and I chase it but I can’t never catch it. It’s odd – it don’t smell or make a noise and I don’t know where it goes when it’s not there – or here. Gus don’t know nothing about it, neither and he can’t catch it, too. Mind you, he don’t move as fast as me.

The Humans know how much I love bird-watching so they very kindly moved the bird feeders closer to the house. I spend many a happy hour watching and chittering at the birds. I think they’d like to come and see me, too, don’tcha know, ‘cos several of them have banged on the patio door.

That’s all I’ve got. Be good!

TTFN

(Mrs H: 

* Winston's not very overweight ; he just needs to slim down a little!

**It’s a laser light)

I'm linking to Misty Dawn's Camera Critters and Bozo and his human at Pet Pride.                                            

The Tenth Blog of Augustus Lazarus Cooke – Gus: January 2011

 

  This is me sitting on Frodo's head. My eyes aren't white, you know. Mrs H tried to make them look right but she couldn't.

Hello everyone! Happy New Ear to you all! I don’t know what that means and none of us animals or Humans has got new ears but all the Humans keep saying Happy New Ear and looking cheerful about it so I think it must be a good thing.

We’ve had such a busy time with lots of people coming and going (and so much food) but the really exciting bit was that us dogs went on holiday for a couple of days. Our Humans took us out in the car - not the dog car, we’d already been out in that when we went to the forest for a long walk – but the really comfortable car that we don’t usually go in.

We were in it for hours and it was dark when we stopped. I didn’t know where we were, though Frodo and Jenna recognised it. They wouldn’t tell me ‘cos they wanted it to be a surprise. Imagine how happy I was when I found that we’d arrived at Tia and Foxy’s house. They were ever so pleased to see us, I can tell you. We all rushed around and sniffed about in their garden and then Gillian gave us our supper. We were so busy we didn’t see our Humans leave. When we went to bed we slept with the children. I was with Marnie and Jenna was with Callum. Kiri had Foxy and Tia, and Frodo was in Gillian and Paul’s room. In the very early morning Frodo started howling and woke everyone up. He was missing Mrs H but he soon settled down again.

The next day lots of people came to see us and say hello, then we all went out for a walk, but we couldn’t go off our leads. We had lots of fun playing in the garden later on, though. All the Humans kept talking about New Earseve and us dogs didn’t know what they meant. They seemed happy so we decided not to worry about it. They went out later on and left us in the house but it was nice and warm so we didn’t mind and they weren’t gone long.

On New Earsday our own Humans came back after it was dark and took us home to Berkshire (I think it’s funny that we live in *Berkshire – well, we do bark, but so do dogs that live in other parts of the country!) We were so tired that we slept all the way. It was nice to go and stay with Gillian and Paul but it was really good to be back in our own home and Winston was very pleased to see us.

It’s been very quiet in our house since we all came home again. Mrs H has put the small Christmas trees out in the garden. She says they’ll be much bigger next Christmas. I wonder if they’ll grow as much as I did – she’ll never get them in the house if they do. I’m ever such a big boy now. When Frodo and me went to see Kate-the-Vet to have a check-up and a booster (whatever that is) we had to stand on a platform that told the Humans how heavy we were. Frodo was 33 kilos and I weighed 31 kilos. I expect I’m more now. I expect I’ll be heavier than Frodo soon. I don’t think he’ll care though. I knock him over sometimes but he never grumbles. I really like Frodo. I sit on his head sometimes but he doesn’t seem to mind - well, not very much. I think he’s super. I don’t think I’ll ever be just like him ‘cos he’s a Dalmatian and I’m a Labrador. When I was little I thought I might grow large white patches and look like him. That was because I had some white hairs on my chin – I know better now. I’m not sure about Jenna, though – her chin’s getting quite a lot of white on it.

I like playing with Winston. He’s only a cat and ever so much smaller than me but we rough and tumble – well, I rough and he tumbles. He missed us dogs when we went on holiday for New Ear. He said it was ever so quiet.

Frodo did some falling down last night. He doesn’t do it very often and I always think he wants to play but my Humans tell me to keep away. Afterwards, he staggers around for a while, crashing into things and knocking things over and then he goes to sleep. The Humans tell him he’s a poor boy, a good boy, and make ever such a fuss of him. They always look a bit sad when Frodo falls but Frodo doesn’t bother – he can’t even remember what’s happened.

Jenna’s going to the vet today. She likes going there ‘cos everyone talks to her and makes a big fuss of her. She gets biscuits, too. Frodo and me got biscuits the last time we went. I liked it there and Frodo’s so used to being there that he doesn’t worry about it. Kate-the-Vet was ever so nice. Her hair tasted good and so did her face. Frodo doesn’t lick the vets – he says it’s not polite but I say, how else can I tell the vets I like them? Anyway, I’m sure they’d rather be licked than bitten – I’ve heard that some dogs bite people. That really isn’t good manners. What in all dogdom are they thinking of?

Time for supper now. Chicken chunks – yum!

Hwyl fawr am nawr! (That’s Welsh for ‘Goodbye for now!’)

*Berkshire is pronounced Barksheer. 

Buddy keeps us on our toes!

It was a lovely day on Wednesday. Barry had gone to a formal lunch in London so I took the dogs out on my own. We didn't meet a soul and it was good to feel that we had the forest to ourselves. Jenna and Gus played in and around the ponds and Frodo went in for a refreshing bath. Buddy was sniffing interesting sniffs and happily wagging his tail as we walked along in the sunshine. There was a pleasant breeze to complement the bright sun, the birds were singing and all was well with the world. It felt good to be alive.
When we reached home the dogs flopped down to snooze. After a while Buddy got up and went to the patio door, asking to go out. He started pacing restlessly then began coughing and frothing at the mouth. My first thought was that he had something stuck in his throat though he'd had nothing to eat since breakfast several hours before and I knew he hadn't picked up anything during our walk. He became ever more agitated, stumbling almost into the pond, and I looked in his mouth to see if anything was there. At the same time I noticed that his stomach was bloating and becoming very tight and hard. Within minutes I got him to the vets' surgery – fortunately, it's only two minutes away by car – and managed to help him out of the car. By now he was extremely distressed and I was very relieved when a nurse came after a minute or two to take him through to the treatment area.

When Mark-the-Vet came back to talk to me he looked grave. Buddy was in a bad way. If he was suffering from gastric dilatation a tube could be passed down his throat to relieve the build-up of gas, it would be clear that the stomach had not twisted and he would instantly feel much better. If the tube could not be passed other measures could be taken to release the gas and reduce the pressure, namely inserting a needle or catheter into his stomach from outside. An x-ray would help to determine the state of Buddy's insides. Ultimately, an operation might be required but it was not a procedure to be undertaken lightly in view of Buddy's age – he's fourteen and nearly died three years ago from meningitis. I had to sign a consent form for anaesthesia but could hardly write because my hand was shaking so much. I may always look calm and collected but under the surface everything's racing! I went home to await further information.

As I walked into the house my ears were assailed by noise. The house phone was ringing, as was my mobile. In my haste I had left it behind. Added to this was Skype donging determinedly on my laptop. Barry was on the train and trying to contact me to let me know when to meet him. When he couldn't get an answer from me he started worrying that something had happened and contacted Gillian to phone, email and Skype me. No-one is allowed to remain unreachable in our family!

As luck would have it, when I left to meet Barry at the station Mark-the-Vet tried several times to contact me. He was phoning every ten minutes to discuss options. It was clear that Buddy had a twisted stomach, usually called gastric torsion or volvulus. There were dangers inherent in an operation; general anaesthesia poses a risk in any animal, more so an elderly one. The stomach wall and abdominal organs might be badly damaged if the blood supply to them had been reduced, and the recovery period was critical. Finally we decided that it was not the right time to let Buddy go – in general, he's fit and healthy, though almost blind. He deserved his chance and so we gave our consent for the operation. Mark-the-Vet phoned at 9:30 that evening to let us know how it had progressed. He had never performed this procedure and had called in another vet, whom he assisted. The stomach was undamaged and had only twisted once. In order to prevent it twisting again in the future it had been stitched to the abdomen wall and Buddy was recovering. Around two hours later Ben-the-Vet, the operating vet, called to tell us that Buddy seemed well but that he would stay overnight to keep an eye on him and would we like him to call us at 3:00 am? We declined! Thursday was an anxious day but my mind and time were occupied very pleasantly by Susannah, who invited me to meet her in London, so I left Barry to wait for news. Mark-the-Vet and Kate-the-Vet phoned two or three times to give an update on the boy's progress and it seemed that Buddy would not be ready to leave for a while. We anticipated him being away over the weekend but on Friday afternoon we were told that we could take him home on Saturday, once final checks had been done. Yesterday, at 3:00 pm, almost exactly three days to the hour that I had rushed him in there, he wobbled out from the treatment area, wagging his tail and obviously pleased to see us. The rest of the animals were excited to see him and sniffed him all over.

Sleeping peacefully - sleep is the best cure of all!

Last night I slept downstairs with him as managing the stairs would be difficult for him. He was a little disturbed by this – he's accustomed to sleeping in our bedroom - and kept going to the foot of the stairs until I shut the sitting room door.

One could be forgiven for thinking that Cruella de Vil had been taking samples!

He woke about 4:00 am and wandered around for an hour or so before having a small meal and going back to sleep.

A Dalmatian's spots really are skin-deep! They are spotted within and without - even in their mouths. Buddy has had two analgesic patches. I think the second one may be removed on Monday.

He goes back to the vet for a check-up tomorrow – I don't know whether he'll have a fresh analgesic patch. He has antibiotics for the next few days and needs lots of rest to recuperate.

It's good to see him back in his place on the settee! He's a great character and we would have missed him sorely. His time will come – but not just now. There's life in the old dog, yet - and we have our great vets to thank for that!

The Seventh Blog of Augustus Lazarus Cooke - Gus and the Collar of Shame

Hello everyone!Before I go any further I just want to assure all my blogging friends out there that I'm ALL RIGHT so please don't worry about me!I told you a little while ago that I was born with an 'unbelievable hernia' which we all hoped was going to repair by itself. (Actually, I've discovered now that it's called an 'umbilical hernia' – sorry if I confused anyone!)

This is me at eight weeks old. I'd just joined my new family and I was smaller than the cats. You can see my hernia quite clearly.

This is me a couple of weeks ago. My hernia doesn't show as much here but you can see water dripping from it.

Anyway, I was nearly nine months old and it still hadn't closed up so last Wednesday I went to see Nadia-the-Vet and she said I'd have to have an operation. I didn't know what that meant but Nadia-the-Vet and Mr Human seemed quite relaxed about it so I decided not to worry. On Thursday the morning routine changed. Usually I get up around 5:30 or 6:00am and have my first breakfast. I generally have two breakfasts – sometimes three. After my first breakfast I go back to bed for a couple of hours and then I have my second breakfast when the others have their first meal. If Jenna doesn't come downstairs with Buddy and Frodo and has hers later I occasionally have a third meal to stop me jumping all over her. I'm not a greedy chap but I am a Labrador and I have to maintain the breed standards. (That's different to the 'Breed Standard' that the show dogs have to fit, in case you're wondering . . . )

Anyway, as I was saying, everything was different on Thursday. No breakfast, for a start – that was very odd, and I was ever so hungry. The next unusual thing to happen was that Mr H took me out on my own. I was excited about that – it's always fun to go out – but I was a bit nervous, too, 'cos I like to go out with the other dogs. I was really surprised when we got out of the car and I saw that we were at the vets' surgery again. I mean, I'd only been there the day before! Mr H took me in and then he left me there and that was exceedingly peculiar but I didn't have time to wonder about it 'cos the nurses made a fuss of me and put me in my own little kennel. I didn't like that much as I like to wander around and see people but they told me it was 'for my own good' so I stopped fussing and went to sleep wondering when I was going to have something to eat. The next thing I knew was that one of the nurses shaved some of the fur off my front paw. It didn't look very smart but she said it would soon grow back. Then I fell asleep again and when I woke up my tummy felt a bit sore but I sat on one of the nurse's laps so that was all right. I'm a big boy but I am still a puppy and I do like my cuddles. Later on Mr H came to fetch me and take me home. All the others were ever so pleased to see me and sniffed and licked me but I was quite tired so I soon went to sleep again. I didn't feel quite right but I had a small supper and then we all went to bed.

On Friday and Saturday, I had my two breakfasts as usual but we didn't go out for a walk as my Humans said I ought to rest a little more. On Friday I was licking my tummy so Mrs H put a stiff collar on me to stop me. I didn't like it at all! She gave me some biscuits to make me feel better but I was miserable and didn't want them. Once I'd promised her I wouldn't lick again she took the 'Collar of Shame' off and then I wolfed down the biscuits.

 I really didn't like the collar - it frightened me and I couldn't lie down.

It wasn't tight on me and it didn't hurt but it felt very strange.

I wasn't interested in the biscuits Mrs H gave me. You can see there's one right next to my nose!

Sunday was better 'cos we went walking but it was quite strange. Ordinarily I rush about and then have a jolly good swim. I couldn't do either of those things 'cos I was wearing a special harness that gently stopped me galloping off and we didn't go near any water. I was disappointed about that but it was good to go out. We weren't out for long but by the evening I was beginning to feel really uncomfortable. We all went up to bed but I just couldn't get comfortable and went to sleep sitting up leaning against Mrs H. My Humans were worried about me 'cos I was breathing fast though once I was fast asleep they said I was breathing normally. In the morning Mr H took me to see Kate-the–Vet who made a big fuss of me and gave me an injection so that I wouldn't feel the pain again. Today he went to get some 'Meloxidyl' 'cos I was starting to hurt again. I'll be completely better very soon – that's what my Humans are telling me, anyway – and most of the time I'm completely happy, mobbing Jenna and Winston and chewing pens, shoes and other interesting Human possessions as well as playing with my toys. I'm going to see the nurse on Friday and then maybe I can get back to my usual exercise – can't wait!

Do you know how much I weigh? I'm 28.5 kilos - that's nearly 63 pounds. I've only got to grow a bit more and I'll be as big as Frodo - wheeee! (I really like Frodo - he's cool! - and handsome!) Frodo and I hang out together in the garden under the bird feeders. We like to tidy the garden for our Humans 'cos those birds make such a mess - and we quite like clearing up the bits of fat cake. Sometimes when it's hot the fat melts and it drips onto me. It doesn't get on Frodo - I don't know why.

The 'very berry'cake is a pretty pink and I think it rather suits my dark good looks. What do you think?

Mrs H was a bit cross with me even though she was laughing and I was worried she might put the collar of shame on me again so I did what I always do to show her how much I love her.

Also my head on her foot means she can't get up quite so quickly and then she might forget all about the c.o.s. I'm not stupid!

That's all for today!

Hwyl fawr am nawr! (That's Welsh for 'Goodbye for now!')