I often feel that the word remarkable is overused. As a case in point, I would draw your attention to my previous statement when I referred to my recovery from a serious foot infection as remarkable. It turned out to be anything but. In fact, the recovery was noticeable by its absence. I remained on antibiotics for 21 days, until another infection (located in a rather delicate area of my anatomy which shall remain anonymous) kindly took up the gauntlet and ran with it, necessitating a different set of tablets. Woe is me. I do not like to complain as you know, but I have requested an official enquiry.
The Chicken And The Toad
Chicken has been extra kind to me during this time, and has greatly reduced the amount of noise she makes. She is still twittering on about her ghost cat and seems to be making new acquaintances on her evening walks. So far she has mentioned a German Shepherd puppy, an Akita puppy, a Pug, a Jack Russell and a toad. None of whom she likes.
Due to my confinement, I missed the opportunity to put myself forward for the Home Secretary vacancy which became available last week. I am always at home and I could very easily acquire a secretary, so feel I would have been the ideal candidate. Chicken said she would rather enjoy being my secretary, which would make her the Secretary’s secretary. We have put our plans on hold for the time being but remain hopeful, as it is not beyond the realms of possibility that the position become available again quite quickly. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about British politics, it’s that you cannot afford to blink.
Tomorrow I am overseeing some work in the garden which may involve the use of seeds. I am on standby to do any watering that may be required.
Fear not people. I have made a miraculous recovery. This is to be expected given my thoroughbred, Irish lineage. We are made of steel. The Fairy was particularly impressed with the way I ran through the house upon my return, straight out into the back garden to take care of business. I am not sure if she was impressed with the running, or with the fact that I didn’t do anything inappropriate on the living room floor.
Upon returning to my office, Chicken began a programme of nursing which I am sure was well intentioned. Be that as it may, I still had to ask for help after a couple of hours. There is only so much inane, incessant chatter that one dog can listen to without becoming desperate. Especially in a state of semi-consciousness. I have no idea why, but I had nightmares about horses playing violins made of sausages.
Due to my remarkable recovery, I am now in a position to deal with the most pressing issues facing my unit. These range from phantom cats and dangerous cats, to garden vandalism. I am planning on drawing up some action plans in the near future.
Feeling like my old self again.
Big Foot with dog biscuit crumbs
In the morning the other day morning Monty did say he was feeling poorly foot and I did look at it and his poorly foot was twice as big as his not bigger other foot. I did call him Big Foot and he did say Big Foot was not real and my Ghost Cat was not real and I dids shouting but Big Foot Monty was too painful to answer. So I dids show him the writing from the internetty and the man had film of the ghost cat.
So I win.
Peoples has all seen one.
Poor Monty Big Foot
I did go to tell The Fairy that Monty was Big Foot and Monty did get mad because then he dids have to go to the vets. Everybody was all worried and I was sad for my poorly Big Foot Monty.
The vet did fix his big foot and he did have the fur shaved off and he does look silly. I did missing him when he was at the vetty vet.
When he did coming home he was sleepy sleepy so I did cheer him all ups by telling him a bedtime story called The Bremen Musicians And The Tower With The Sausage Tower. It did take two hours to tell it all properly.
In my line of work, it is important to think on your feet. Sometimes it is necessary to Improvise, Adapt and Overcome. This is where I excel. When the going gets tough, as they say, the tough get going. And the going is particularly tough at the moment with regards to the food situation and to Chicken’s teeth.
I have good news regarding her recovery. I accompanied her to the vets this morning for her check up. Ordinarily I wouldn’t set foot in the place, but I was there to support Chicken. I did a rather good demonstration of how one might shake if one were frightened of the vets, which everybody present found very useful. The vet was pleased with her progress so we are all very relieved. The Fairy has given both of us extra attention and has hand-fed Chicken with all sorts of nice things. I’m glad to say that I was also given some of this lovely PROPER food, in the interest of fairness.
Then it came to me. A flash of inspiration so profound that even I was stunned by my own brilliance. Improvise, adapt and overcome.
These are the facts:
- We were put on a diet of gravel.
- Chicken had some teeth removed.
- For a period of three days we were both given soft chicken, mince, black pudding and ham.
So, without even referring to the official text book, I have identified a method of obtaining good quality food for a period of at least three days: book Chicken into the vets. It’s that simple!
Hear me out.
Chicken has 26 teeth left, which in theory could mean up to 78 days of decent food if she were to have one tooth extracted at a time, and we were to get soft cooked real meat for three days after each extraction. I’m sure she will agree that that will be worth the small amount of discomfort she may feel.
Stunned by my own brilliance
I have not yet ironed out all the details, but I intend to put the idea to Chicken as soon as she stops drooling.
Monty The Great
Phraa lemph broooo. Slaph blur pree. Vet phoo glaa going again snall shloo never. Brrrrree phrass sloff. Blum blum blum!
Chlichen phf phf phf xxx
I will be the first to admit that in recent times I have rather lost sight of who I am. I put this down to the shock that my body has been going through, since the illegal withdrawing of the approved a la carte menu. Though fully aware of this crime against humanity, I felt unable to rally myself to action.
Luckily, I have my right hand man Chicken looking out for me. Admittedly, she went about administering help in a rather uncouth fashion, but administer help she did. By literally throwing me a lifeline. In the form of a very large book.
The book which roused me from my stupor was none other than the highly acclaimed 1996 addition of How To Win Yourself A Home And Control Your Humans Once You Get There.
I cannot believe that I did not immediately refer to this volume! I have used this text during many of my lectures to recently retired greyhounds to great effect. I intend to follow – to the letter – all the instructions given in the chapter about food. The Fairy is no match for me!
On a more serious note: teeth. Mine are excellent. Mine are the best teeth that the vet has ever seen on a greyhound. They are made of reinforced concrete and have side-impact protection bars installed as standard. They are big, strong, and responsible for many of the compliments that I receive on a daily basis.
Chicken’s, on the other hand, are rubbish. So rubbish in fact, that she has had to have six of them taken out. She is a little out of sorts at the moment but is recovering well. A bit droolly but I’m hoping that passes.
She’s in safe hands
She has nothing to fear. From this moment on I will be taking full responsibility for her rehabilitation and wellbeing. I consider it an honour to be able to look after her. She is in safe hands.
I did go to see the vetty vet and Monty McDonty did not all go with me because he did have something important to do in his office and he didn’t come out his office so we left him.
Then the vetty vet did say I was incompetent and then she did try to give me a biscuit but I did decidered not to eat it because Monty did say he doesn’t eat anything the vetty vet does gives him until he has had it analysed for medicinal ingredients and determined it to be necessary. He did say the vetty vet tries to trick him into eating medicine but he doesn’t fall for it, so I did decide not to fall over either. The vetty vet did say she could give me medicine to make me non-incompetent so I is going to ask Monty if this is necessary.
When I did gets home I did tell Monty that the vet did say I was incompetent and he was all angry mad and did standing up for me so I does love him again today. He did say that telling young ladies that they is incompetent damages their self steam and limits their pot end shells. He did say he was going to give her a piece of his mind but he didn’t know when he would all get the time to go down there.
Me being non-incompetent
He did say I was not incompetent at all and that I was very competent and useful at times and that there was much things I was all goody at so I didn’t need to eat the medicine. I did ask him to tell me all the things I was goody at and he did say there was too many loads to mention. Then I did ask him to say just one thing that I was goody at and he did say it was all better if he did write everything down on a big list and he did go in his office to plan my big list.
He is still there.
Working on my big list.