Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Just an ordinary Wednesday morning. I get up as usual just after 5.30, get dressed, take the dog for a walk in the pouring rain. Here she is-
Dog? Did I say dog? I have 6 cats, one kitten which may stay, and a psycho cat in a cage in the garage. But I don't have a dog.
Nevertheless, I did get up at 5.30 this morning and take the above dog for a walk and, yes, I did wake up in my own home. This isn't a trick. Here's the full story.
On Monday, Susan and Andrea had taken a load of dog food to Westhall boarding kennels which gets a stipend from the council to take in stray dogs from the dog warden. The conditions in which they are kept is far from the highest of standards. On Monday Susan saw this dog which if you look carefully near her hind leg you'll see a tumour the size of a football. The dog, called Trixie, had been there nearly a couple of months and shortly after her arrival a vet said she should be put to sleep. But she'd just been left there.
Susan was so upset by this dog that she decided to take Trixie out and get her checked over at Vets4Pets which she did on Tuesday afternoon with my help. The vet agreed to operate on Wednesday morning (today), though did say she might die under the anaesthetic which was still better than going back to the kennels.
We brought her home and the cats were terrified. A kitten is one thing but a dog with terrier blood in it, even it is old and tired, was just a bit too much. They all fled. I got a large cage from the shop, set it up in the dining room where no cats are allowed, and Trixie settled down in the large dog basket I'd provided. Just after nine in the evening I took her for a walk. In the pouring rain while Susan watched tv in bed. And, in the morning, I took her for another walk, then we took her to the vets.
She has come through the operation and, as I write, Susan and Andrea have just gone to pick her up. (Me, I've just got back from the PDSA, having taking an elderly lady and her elderly cat with a broken leg for a checkup.) Trixie will recuperate here for a couple of days and then hopefully go to stay with a fosterer.
She's a harmless old thing and it's impossible not to feel sorry for her. But what this has finally proven to Susan is that no matter how much she might wish it we can't really have a dog permanently in the same house as our six cats. Which I'd been telling her all along but there you go.