Tail

The End of a Dog’s Tale?

~ beetleypete ~ 29 Comments

Because some of you really care about Ollie, and I know you do, because you comment, or e mail me about him, here is an update.

He went in for his ‘partial amputation’ this morning, at 8.30. He was excited to get into the car, no doubt expecting to be taken somewhere new and different. When he saw the Vet’s car park, his enthusiasm dampened, and once inside, he was visibly uncomfortable. There were lots of other dogs, and a cat, already there. The morning surgery list was long, and the staff were very busy. He was weighed (26 kilos) and then taken in for a health check, to ensure he was fit enough for surgery. He hadn’t had anything to eat after 8pm last night, so that wasn’t an issue. The nurse reappeared, to tell me that he was going to be operated on, and I had to sign the consent form. They told me to telephone after 2pm.

When you have had a dog around, the house feels strangely empty if they are not there. I arrived home, feeling a bit guilty, and more than a little worried. I had asked them not to cut too much off his tail, if it could be done like that, and I was assured that only the smallest amount would be removed. I had some breakfast, and occupied myself with some routine household chores, one eye on the clock. Just after 2pm, I rang as requested. I was told that the operation had gone well, but he was too drowsy from the anaesthetic, to be collected before 4pm. I washed a bag of his toys, so that they would be fresh for his return home, and carried on with jobs, until leaving to collect him.

He finally emerged around 5pm, looking very dopey. Julie had finished work, and had met me at the Vet. Before they went to get him, they presented the bill; not much change from £400, as expected. At least the Vet will be having a good night tonight. As they said, only a tiny part of the end of his tail had been removed, and the wound closed with a couple of tiny stitches. It was so small, it was hard to tell the difference, before and after. It wasn’t dressed, and there were no tablets of any kind to take home. We were told that he had to have lead-only walks for ten days, and bland food for a couple of days. He was still very groggy, and had trouble getting in and out of the car, having to be lifted out, when we got home. He slept most of the evening, but did wake up long enough to eat some chicken and rice. About 20 minutes ago (10.55pm), he took himself off to his bed, and will hopefully sleep it off.

He has to go back for a check-up on the 27th January. I am hoping that will be that last part of this tale of a tail. Thanks to everyone who expressed concern, and sent good wishes for him.

A Winter walk

~ beetleypete ~ 17 Comments

It has been raining all day here, and the wind has been strong too. But Ollie still has to have his walk, so it was business as usual, at 2pm today. The sky had been the colour of a battleship since I woke up, and there was about as much light as you would get through the frosted glass of a bathroom window. I could hear the rain pattering off of the flat roofs, with the heaver drops, like the bass drum heard over the snares. This last December day seemed determined to remind us all that it was still Winter in Norfolk.

Luckily, a lot of the misery of dog-walking in the wet has been greatly reduced, by the arrival of Christmas gifts, courtesy of my thoughtful wife. As well as the previously mentioned American wellington boots, I was delighted to receive some Berghaus gloves, windproof, and water-resistant. Damp trousers are also banished, with the addition of North Face over-trousers, almost guaranteed to keep wet and wind away from from my legs. These bad boys unzip and un-pop all the way from the thigh, so it is easy to get boots on and off from underneath them. I even got a nice basic Timex watch, one that I can see easily, and with the benefit of a luminous face, for darker walks. This means I no longer have to worry about damaging the more expensive watch that I usually wear. I topped off the ensemble with my cheap but efficient waterproof cap, and we headed off into the torrential rain, that always gets worse around 2pm.

Ollie had been to the Vet again earlier, and we received bad news about his tail injury. It is still not healing. Despite keeping him quiet, and away from his dog playmates, any shaking, or running through long grass, is enough to re-open the wound. He has ten more days, to see if it heals properly, or we have to agree to amputation of the last inch or so of his tail. Despite these problems, and the weather, he was keen to get out, and run around as usual. After ten minutes striding, I realised that only my face was wet, so all the preparation with the new clothes had paid dividends, as far as keeping dry goes. The rain kept coming, and the areas next to the river, and through the woodland, were like quagmires. Mud was inches deep, and in some places, I needed my trusty wooden wading pole, to assist with balance.

We did not see many other walkers; no doubt put off by the bad weather, or having to journey to family and friends for the New Year celebrations. Those that were around sensibly kept their heads down, and I avoided the other dogs anyway, lest Ollie’s tail get caught in play. I noticed some large areas of bracken had been flattened, trampled into rough circle shapes. A sure sign that large deer had slept there overnight, confirmed by Ollie’s interest in sniffing those areas intently. The river was chocolate brown, and moving fast, swollen by recent rains, but thankfully not bursting its banks. Ollie searched for his friends; but finding none, he contented himself with squirrel-chasing, and constant sniffing. It was nice to be able to keep him off the lead for a while, as he hates having it on, and it has been necessary, since the tail incident. He was interested in some colourful Jays, but they ignored him, and there were no rabbits to be seen either.

Under the trees, the drumming of the larger raindrops grew tiring on my head, so I walked out into the playing fields instead. There were no children in the play park, and no boys playing football in the compound. By 3pm, Ollie and I were the only things visible on Beetley Meadows, and it was getting noticeably darker. I decided to head for home, as I had also noticed blood at the end of Ollie’s tail, a sure sign that he had caught it again. I was pleased to find myself completely dry, despite all the outerwear being soaked, and muddy. I towelled off the dog, and prepared him one of his favourite meals; fresh-cooked chicken livers, and mixed vegetables.

Tomorrow is the first day of another year in the world of dog-walking. Only 365 more walks to do, before 2015.

A Beetley Christmas Eve

~ beetleypete ~ 10 Comments

Well, it is now only four hours until Christmas Day in Beetley. It is characteristically peaceful, not a sound to be heard.  A few houses have slightly overdone the exterior decorations, but that is forgiven, at this seasonal time. Traffic is non-existent, local children excitedly abed. Our dinner is digesting, and the house is prepared, to receive that certain day.

I was at the Vet’s early today, for Ollie’s tail to be re-dressed. There was a decidedly non-seasonal fee, and he has to return on Saturday, to provide more income for the Vet. She did admit that healing was visible, and cautiously declared that amputation may be off the agenda. For now, at least. Presents wrapped, dinner prepared, I thought it appropriate to light the wood burner early. Bad idea. The recent torrential rain and winds had affected it, yet again, and we got smoke in the living room, and a fire refusing to catch. The spirit of Christmas had deserted us, at least where flames and comfort are concerned. Another reminder, of wasted thousands, seemingly set to haunt us through life. I fought anger and frustration, and took Ollie to the meadow.

He was better today; less reluctant to run, and pleased to see some of his old friends, at least for a while. There were comments about his tail, sympathy, and encouragement. After an hour, he stood by the exit, obviously ready for home. The tail had become too irritating, for him to continue. We had to resort to the central heating, to achieve a decidedly non-seasonal warmth. I cleared away the cardboard rubbish, that had contained various gifts, and settled to an evening of bad TV, and quiet reflection. Ollie slept after his dinner, and we also felt that tiredness that results from days of preparation, and entertainment.

I find myself anticipating sleep, followed by a Christmas breakfast, and a short period of present opening. It was a quiet Beetley Christmas Eve, and I am sure that it will be followed by a quiet Beetley Christmas Day. Sweet dreams, all of you, and I hope that Santa brings you a wonderful surprise.

Ollie’s Tail: A tale.

~ beetleypete ~ 25 Comments

As I know (from comments and e mails) that many of you are interested, here is a short update on the condition of my poorly dog, Ollie. I felt it was necessary to take him to the Vet this morning, even though my dealings with any Vet in the past have always left me uneasy. I cannot justify the huge costs, for what is often a very short visit, and for what is sometimes the most minor treatment. I understand that to be a Vet, is an expensive proposition. Years of study, post-graduate qualifications, and acceptance into a busy practice, often for a large fee. It all adds up. They probably don’t start earning a decent salary (by Vet standards, of course, not by normal ones) until they are into their late twenties. This leaves them with a fair bit of catching up to do, at our expense.

Don’t get me wrong, I want the best care for my dog, and I don’t want him to suffer, or to be in any discomfort. But this is probably the closest we ever get, to seeing private healthcare as it really is, in countries where it is often the only decent option. As we only have the Vet’s word for what is wrong, we pay up, listen to the necessary medications prescribed, and return as instructed, for follow-up treatments. I just have a niggling doubt that a lot of it is unnecessary, and done to increase the bill at the end. If you question the charges, they rattle off the cost of all the tests and anaesthetics, making you feel guilty about not wanting the best for your pet. In extreme circumstances, they invite you to take your pet off their books, and start all over with a different Vet. Same prices though. Maybe it is just me, but I would like to see them looking a bit more worried about the dog, and less worried that I have the means to pay. Of course, I don’t expect them to work for free, just for a little less.

I digress. Ollie was kept in, to have a general anaesthetic. He was unlikely to sit still for a proper examination and treatment, even if muzzled. Even before she agreed this, the Vet immediately began to estimate future costs, should her initial treatment prove to be unsuccessful. With only a cursory glance at the dog, she began to quote me hundreds of pounds for future surgery, that might be needed, to create a proper stump on his tail. After three hours had passed, I went to collect him. I had to pay before even seeing him, and it was a hefty bill, for treatment lasting less than an hour, then letting him sleep somewhere, for two more. He has a huge bandage on his tail, which was shaved and cleaned. Antibiotics have been administered, and I had to buy more, as well as pain killers, to take home. He has slept all the rest of the time, feeling most sorry for himself.

We have to go back on Wednesday, to have the dressing changed, and to see if more surgery will be needed. I hope that I am proved wrong, I really do, but I have the feeling that he will be requiring that extra surgery, after all.

If you have a child, bright and studious, but unsure of the path to take in life, recommend being a Vet.

A Country Tail

~ beetleypete ~ 11 Comments

Ollie hasn’t had a great week. After chasing a deer into some bushes, and not catching it of course, he pulled a muscle in one of his back legs, and developed a limp. No sooner had that begun to clear up, than he had a bout of diarrhoea to contend with, probably caused by drinking something potentially lethal, in the river water. Luckily, that soon cleared up, with a couple of days of bland food- chicken and rice, and a good rest.

As he draws near to his second birthday, next February, he has become a little difficult on occasion. He sometimes ignores my commands to return, and often runs the length of the meadow, when he sees another dog. As we decided not to have him neutered, (not yet, anyway) his usual playing with his dog chums has recently developed into shows of dominance. Most of them are doing something similar; shoulder mounting, growling, pawing the ground, and scent-marking every molehill and twig. Even when they seem to be playing happily, they nip harder, bowl each other over, and steal sticks and balls constantly. It is to be accepted, I suppose, as a coming-of-age ritual, which hopefully will not last too long. The shame of it is, that all the dogs concerned were once great friends. All born around the same time, they had their first ever walks together, shared first experiences in the river, and trips across to Hoe Rough.

Now, they are becoming like a gang of squabbling teenagers. Running in groups, careering into people, snarling, biting, and generally wrestling. Ollie, who is otherwise placid and so easy to own, becomes a changed dog across the meadow now. Strutting like a neighbourhood tough guy, on the lookout for any strange dogs to intimidate, or old pals to settle dominance issues with. I have to tell him off so much more, and sometimes walk him on the lead, to keep him in check. The once pleasant walk has turned into a constant reconnaissance mission, as I scan the horizon for potential combatants. Two of his former ‘best mates’, Retriever Duncan, and chocolate Labrador Flynn, are now either attacking on sight, or being pursued by a determined Ollie, keen to show them that he is the boss. I have had to start avoiding walking companions, even occasionally going to different venues, rather than have to encounter them.

Late Saturday afternoon, Ollie had been running around and tussling with Spike, an enormous eight-month old Rhodesian Ridgeback. It was a hard play, that left him with a gash over one eye. Luckily, Spike is still young, and Ollie senses his youth, and takes advantage of that. For the moment, they are still equals, despite the size difference, and Spike’s large ears were targeted on more than one occasion, causing him to yelp, as Ollie sunk his teeth in. As it got later, we decided to make tracks home. Near the river, we encountered a lady, who had another of Ollie’s old friends, Robbie the Terrier, on a lead.  After some sniffing and growling, ( by the dogs…) we said farewell, and walked towards the exit, as it was now almost dark. After getting some distance away, Ollie suddenly turned, and ran back towards Robbie, determined to have the last sniff, and show the small dog where he stood, in the grand scheme of things canine. I heard a snarl, and a high pitched yelp, and saw Ollie running back towards us. He stopped halfway, obviously in some distress, as he kept sitting down.

I went back, to try to cajole him on, and he kept looking at his tail, which is curled in on itself, not unlike a pig’s tail. I went to uncurl it, for a better look in the gloom, and he snapped at me angrily, for the first time ever. I put his lead on, but had trouble getting him to walk home. Once back in proper light, I could soon see that the tip of his tail was gone, bitten off by the angry terrier. There was a nasty-looking wound, and some dried blood around the base. Part of what was left was visible, and it looked very sore. I suppose it must be a bit like losing a fingertip, made worse by the fact that the curl in his tail constantly forces the wound into contact with his back. He can relax it slightly, but not for very long. I tried to get to it, to clean it up, but he was having none of that. All he wanted was to be stroked and cuddled, and he looked very sorry for himself. Mind you, he did eat his dinner, so it didn’t put him off that.

He kept fairly quiet for the rest of the night, not playing with his toys, and constantly seeking reassurance. Even though it was his own fault, we couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. I will take him to the Vet tomorrow, to see what can be done with it, if anything. Today, I drove him up to Neatherd Moor, to keep him out of the river. As soon as he was out of the car, it was plain to see that he was not his usual self; constantly stopping, and looking behind. When other dogs came close, they tried to sniff the wound, no doubt sensing the blood. I had to keep him walking on his own, and cut the usual length of his walk short, as he was patently not enjoying it. On the return journey, with rain increasing, the windscreen wipers on my car began to operate in slow-motion, for some unknown reason. With more rain forecast, and a busy week ahead, the last thing I needed was the inconvenience, and expense, of getting wipers fixed. I have had better weekends, it must be said.

On the plus side, I was published on Curnblog once again, here’s a link; http://curnblog.com/2013/12/14/trip-pictures-watching-movies-post-wwii-london/ Although this made me very pleased, it also coincided with the least ever views on my blog over a weekend, since I started it.

Let’s hope that it is a seasonal aberration.