Tears are running down and down and down your breast

( Memeage )

I'm still a little shaky and I'm having to try very hard not to think about Squish all alone in a cage not knowing where I am, but I'm not actually crying any more.

Much.

One thing tonight has made me realise - Max Squish might have been unplanned and inconvenient, but he's my dog now, for richer, poorer, better or worse, forever. I'm not even going to pretend to be looking for a new home for him any more, even if it means I need a new home for all three of us (which it might, although there's no big rush)

He doesn't leave me again until they pry his collar from my cold, dead fingers.

Edited to add: I'm using the Squishless night for some Spike quality time - we've been doing all the things we can't do with Squish about, like dancing together to rock music and playing with the rope tugger. Squish is a pretty good dancer too, but if I try and dance with both together they get jealous and end up fighting. I sometimes let them have the rope tugger, but they get so very overexcited and noisy with it that I don't do it too much. Note to self - I need to make the effort to spend quality time with each dog on his own more often. I feel bad that it's taken something going wrong to remind me.

never mind the bollocks

Rock on, dude! You are Punk music!


What type of music are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Copied from Niorah at Terran - why don't you have a LiveJournal, darling?

Phoned the vet at 9am (the earliest they're willing to answer the phone if you don't have an emergency on your hands) and learned that they haven't done Max's leg yet. My first thought was 'why the hell couldn't he have stayed home last night then?' but actually I can see the sense in it... they can make an early start, make sure he doesn't eat or drink before the anaesthetic or bash the leg playing with Spike better than I could have done. I'm to phone them again in half an hour to find out when I can come get him.

The taxi firm co-owned by our neighbour Maureen's husband are looking for a desk jockey to man the phones on the weekend night shift. According to Maureen they want someone over forty - she originally asked Mum if she wanted it - but I'm only two years off that... Maureen is going to check with the firm and let us know if they'll consider me. Fingers mightily crossed. This would be a far, far better option than working in a shop...

SQUISHY'S HOME!!!!

Very dopey from the anaesthetic, and feeling rather sorry for himself. He has a massive bandage covering half his leg, paw and all - I've been told to keep it strictly dry and not allow him to do anything other than walk sedately outside to pee on a lead for ten days.

Yeah, right... I'll do my best... actually I'm going to have to take him for longer walks on-lead, because that's the only possible way I'll keep him from wrestling with Spike all day and charging up & down the stairs, which will do the leg a great deal more damage.

I didn't get a Happy Dance because he's still too stoned... he slept in my arms in the car on the way home, and he almost fell down the stairs when he tried to go up to Mum's bedroom. He's up there now, asleep on her bed with Spike, who was hysterically pleased to see him again.

I shall post some piccies later, assuming I can work out how to download them from Mum's new digital camera without any hitches. You all know how technically-challenged I am...

Huge, huge thanks to all of you who wished us well and prayed and everything. I'd have had a much more dreadful night without you.

Oh, and the veterinary nurse told me that he has the most irritating bark she's ever heard and he kept it up at full volume most of the night. That's my boy!