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urgh blurgle.
Sodding dogs. Took both of them to the park yesterday evening, and I'd just let them off the lead when a black and white cat appeared out of nowhere. The cat disappeared over a fence very fast, but its brief appearance left Squish too excited to pay much attention to me, and he dashed off to flush woodpigeons out of the hedge instead. He didn't go too far, and he came back after a few minutes - and he was limping.
Oh joy. He'd snagged himself on the barbed wire fence that separates the park from the farmland the other side. There was a V-shaped tear in his skin and a triangular flap hanging down. I had a good look and feel - no other damage, not too much bleeding, no damage to the muscle underneath - could have been a damn sight worse. Took them straight home and phoned the vet's emergency number - the vet nurse I spoke to agreed with me that it would need attention but it could wait till morning (it was 9pm by this time)
Tried to put a bandage on it (with bondage tape, heh heh - the only thing I had handy that won't stick to fur) but it's right above his elbow joint on his front leg, I couldn't get it to stay on, so I left it. He licked it a bit but he wasn't worrying at it, so I decided I wouldn't worry either.
Squish's attitude in adversity is the complete opposite of stoic Spike's. If I tread on his foot he'll cry and fuss until it's kissed better. He's a real baby about anything like that, and he spent all evening and this morning being terribly clingy and giving me puppy dog eyes... then, when we got him to the vet's this morning, he yelped and squalled like a tired toddler as soon as the vet took him into the back room to shave and examine the wound. Jenny the awesome vet (the same lady that kept my Scampi alive and on his feet till he was seventeen and a half, and probably the person I trust most in the world) decided the wound was too awkwardly placed for staples, so we had to leave the poor lad there to be knocked out and sewn up.
I could still hear him yelping out in the car park. I know from prior experience that poor Squish won't stop yelling until he loses consciousness, and when he regains it he won't stop yelling till he sees me again. I probably should have bought that poor vet nurse some earplugs.
But at least he doesn't have to spend the night there. I'm sitting at Mum's writing this (which is why I'm not on AIM or MSN or anything) and we're to go and pick him up at fourish. If they remember him from last time, they aren't going to keep him one damn minute longer than they need to. That yelp of his grates on the nerves almost as badly as a crying baby...
You are The Scarecrow, sick, twisted and pretty
gross. Sure, maybe you weren't always this
insane, but then again, maybe you were. You
like freaking people out. You probably sniffed
a lot of glue as a child.
Which Batman Begins character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Also, it is INSANELY hot here. (77F/25C - yes, I know that's nothing to half my friends list, but it's way too fucking hot for me and my collie). I ought to be taking this Squish-free opportunity to have some quality time with Spike in the park, but I'm scared both of us will die of heat exhaustion if I do. I wish to hell I had a place I could put the little kiddie pool I bought him last year. He loves that so much - he'll do a couple of retrieves, go lie in it for a minute then be ready to go again.
He might manage all right at the park if I take a big bottle of water with me...
Sodding dogs. Took both of them to the park yesterday evening, and I'd just let them off the lead when a black and white cat appeared out of nowhere. The cat disappeared over a fence very fast, but its brief appearance left Squish too excited to pay much attention to me, and he dashed off to flush woodpigeons out of the hedge instead. He didn't go too far, and he came back after a few minutes - and he was limping.
Oh joy. He'd snagged himself on the barbed wire fence that separates the park from the farmland the other side. There was a V-shaped tear in his skin and a triangular flap hanging down. I had a good look and feel - no other damage, not too much bleeding, no damage to the muscle underneath - could have been a damn sight worse. Took them straight home and phoned the vet's emergency number - the vet nurse I spoke to agreed with me that it would need attention but it could wait till morning (it was 9pm by this time)
Tried to put a bandage on it (with bondage tape, heh heh - the only thing I had handy that won't stick to fur) but it's right above his elbow joint on his front leg, I couldn't get it to stay on, so I left it. He licked it a bit but he wasn't worrying at it, so I decided I wouldn't worry either.
Squish's attitude in adversity is the complete opposite of stoic Spike's. If I tread on his foot he'll cry and fuss until it's kissed better. He's a real baby about anything like that, and he spent all evening and this morning being terribly clingy and giving me puppy dog eyes... then, when we got him to the vet's this morning, he yelped and squalled like a tired toddler as soon as the vet took him into the back room to shave and examine the wound. Jenny the awesome vet (the same lady that kept my Scampi alive and on his feet till he was seventeen and a half, and probably the person I trust most in the world) decided the wound was too awkwardly placed for staples, so we had to leave the poor lad there to be knocked out and sewn up.
I could still hear him yelping out in the car park. I know from prior experience that poor Squish won't stop yelling until he loses consciousness, and when he regains it he won't stop yelling till he sees me again. I probably should have bought that poor vet nurse some earplugs.
But at least he doesn't have to spend the night there. I'm sitting at Mum's writing this (which is why I'm not on AIM or MSN or anything) and we're to go and pick him up at fourish. If they remember him from last time, they aren't going to keep him one damn minute longer than they need to. That yelp of his grates on the nerves almost as badly as a crying baby...
| Miho You scored 33% Morality, 77% Killer Instinct, and 11% Insanity! |
| Beautiful, |
 |
My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Sin City Character Test written by crayne on Ok Cupid |
You are The Scarecrow, sick, twisted and pretty
gross. Sure, maybe you weren't always this
insane, but then again, maybe you were. You
like freaking people out. You probably sniffed
a lot of glue as a child.
Which Batman Begins character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Also, it is INSANELY hot here. (77F/25C - yes, I know that's nothing to half my friends list, but it's way too fucking hot for me and my collie). I ought to be taking this Squish-free opportunity to have some quality time with Spike in the park, but I'm scared both of us will die of heat exhaustion if I do. I wish to hell I had a place I could put the little kiddie pool I bought him last year. He loves that so much - he'll do a couple of retrieves, go lie in it for a minute then be ready to go again.
He might manage all right at the park if I take a big bottle of water with me...
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