Man Cold

Okay I confess. I had intended to write a lengthy diatribe about how much the boys had cost, how much had been spent on beds, medicines, furniture and various items that have been eaten by The Kray Twins ( foreign visitors to the blog I should Google this...). I was then going to compare that with inanimate objects that I could have purchased. this would have included fast cars, fishing boats and probably a really expensive watch and or several trips to the F1 (Grand Prix) at one or more overseas venues. I would have made great play on the comparisons and also laughed about advertising "Free Bassets" to anyone that wanted one (or two).

All that changed last week.The boys sleep together in the hallway at night. There are many reasons for this although primarily the reasons are: a) leave them in the living room and they will eat ,chew or otherwise mangle anything at hand or left out and b) if they can get into the bedroom two Bassets on top of you in bed is like sleeping with Shetland Ponies. Shetland Ponies that snore, fart, smell like stale cheesy biscuits and insist on sleeping like a star fish.

Anyhow, I normally emerge from the bedroom to be greeted by the hounds in their own personal way. Lewis will stand on my feet and generally shove me toward the kitchen and the doggy biscuit bowl. Monty will pick the most exposed naked part of your body and place a gigantic basset paw against it and drag it slowly to the floor. This is also usually associated with a nudge toward the biscuit bowl and or a pull of your dressing gown ( on on one occasion what he thought was the dressing gown chord ~ I was starkers , if you know what I mean ! )

However this recent morning Lewis emerged from his pit as usual nudging me toward the kitchen and biscuits. Monty laid still..... I have two sons that are now grown up. I remember them as little 'uns standing in their bedrooms just watching to make sure they were breathing, Hoping secretly that they would wake up so I could cuddle them .....good grief am I going soft ??! Monty was still, no greeting and barely a flicker from him. I coerced him from his bed into the garden but showed no interest in me or Lewis. He snubbed biscuits and began vomiting around the kitchen. He snubbed biscuits and he looked generally washed out. I shall spare you the details but number twos were pretty grim too and looked like there was blood in them. Monty went from being the smart bubbly basset to the quiet and obviously ill basset. Lewis was extremely sympathetic. So sympathetic that he ate Monty's morning biccy and managed to completely ignore him.

It was at this point that you begin to have those pointless yet wholly necessary conversations with dogs ( or whatever animal):~

Me - Are you alright Monty?

Monty - No I feel like shit but I can't speak cos I'm a dog.

Me - Have you eaten something nasty?

Monty - Yes, I ate some particularly mouldy cat shit I found under the bin. I can't tell you this so I'm going to look at you like it's your fault for not washing out my food bowl for the last 6 months.....

Me - Oh god I hope it wasn't your food or bowls or anything.

Monty - It wasn't. It was the cat shit but I'm going to continue looking at you like it's your fault.

Me - I'm going to throw out ALL their bowls and buy new micro biotic bowls.

Monty - you would be better off throwing out the neighbours cat, but can I have a nice new red bowl....?

Me - God i hope its not salmonella or anything like that ...

Monty - Its not, the cat is called Tiddles..

Me - I hope Lewis doesn't get it too....

Monty - he won't cos I ate all the cat shit before he got there. I may have a word with him to see if he can get a new bowl as well though....

Me - He looks dehydrated and I think that is blood in his poo.....

Monty - I dunno what Dee in a hydrangered is but the blood may actually be as a result of licking out the old beetroot jar I found next to the cat shit...

Me - Would you like to go and see the nice doggy doctor Monty Wonty....

Monty - Let me think this through. Would I like a thermometer up my arse and be generally poked about on the promise of a Bonio that has been in a jar in his surgery since 1983 ? .....uh no I'd rather lick my brothers ears out. However I must keep up the pretence that it is not my fault and force Dad to carry me to the Vets.....

Several hours and £51.25p later Monty had received a jab and the promise that he will be fine in a couple of days. The new micro biotic dog bowls are in the post and the neighbours cat has mysteriously disappeared...........

Monty is fine now. He had picked up some horrible 'bug' and was not a well hound. You cannot put any price on the health of your loved ones...................................