A poorly Paw and a good Samaritan Act
What a difference a week makes. Last Saturday I was up on the hills with the family plus a special friend of theirs. I was charging through the brambles and undergrowth in my usual way, when I managed to cut myself quite badly. My art a rie seemed to have been cut and blood was pouring out. Everyone seemed quite concerned, saying it was too far to carry me back to the car, but just then a passer by passed by, who just happened to have a band age in his pouch. This was wrapped round my leg. It felt better and worse at the same time, if you know what I mean.
Anyway they whizzed me off to the emergency vets in Worcester where they put on something that made it impossible for me to run around until I could get to our ordinary vets on Monday where they put me out for a much longer sleep than even I am used to. When I woke up I had a pretty pink band age on and didn’t even feel like running around. Too much mor-pheene!
Dad was muttering something about having been meaning to get round to taking out Inshore Ants on me, but unfortunately hadn’t done so. What have ants got to do with my leg? Anyway, I am now reduced to a limp and a crawl, and they say I’ll have to go for walks on a LEAD for a week or two!!!!! A free range dog like me? They must be barking mad. The indignity of it!
Nothing else for it, I’m trying to bow to the inevitable and make the best of it. You never know, I may think thoughts in this extended time of meditation that I would never have thought of otherwise. Watch out world!
Mum’s been telling me a funny story. She was cycling beside the canal in Birming-ham one day last week (why can’t she bring one of those hams home with her?) last week when she spotted a brown wall-ett on the tow path. She took it with her back to Uni and discovered the name of the owner and his home address in London. It was a really unusual double barrelled name. When she did her detective work and tracked down that number it turned out that wallet-owners father had been at kennel school with her brother, Robert, in Shropshire and even in the same rug-bee team, where the father she was talking to had actually been the head kennel master. What an amazing coincidence!!
So God must be in charge, but I am feeling a bit flinchy and very subdued, so I would appreciate prayer for us all please. Dad’s away all next week so the days could be a bit long, even though someone has said they will pop in to see us from time to time . . .
May the Lord strengthen you if you’ve got a poorly paw too, or a lost wallet. May you know the blessing of passerbys with band ages and people like my mummy to find missing things for you.
Hugs and licks
PS: Since I wrote this I have been in a lot of discomfort.
The vet has put me in one of those horrid lampshade things which has made me wonder if I have done something terribly wrong. I’m feeling right down in the dumps. Please pray I’m not lonely while Dad’s away next week and that I get better soon! x