Tuesday, 1 March 2011

There is a phantom about!

Hello everyone.

I have not blogged for a while. I have been a bit "under the weather" and not been feeling myself for a few days. I was not sure what was happening, only that I felt different to normal. Dad said I was getting to be a bit more grumpy and jumpy with everyone.  I wondered if I was coming into season again, but it did not feel like that to me. I have had about five season in the last three years. The way I was feeling was different to that. Was I coming down with some kind of a bug, had I gotten a bad case of the canine dreaded lurgi?

Dad told mum that the "dreaded lurgi" was invented by the Goons (Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers and Harry Seacombe) on the goons show on radio.  The dreaded lurgi became a school playground term for some horrid infection you had supposedly contracted. Especially a case that let you bunk a day or two off school.
I was feeling quite listless and just wanted to curl up in my basket all the time. I am a bit picky when it comes to food, but my appetite had disappeared. I still enjoyed taking dad for his morning walk, but I have to admit that I was soon a bit bored with chasing after his exercise ball. All I wanted to do was get back into the boat and to settle down in my bed and like Jasper the cat, just to go to sleep.

Mum and dad both spent some time keeping me company and checking me out. Mum said, "I think I know what's up with her." At which point I pricked up my ears. So, you can imagine my dismay when I heard the word vet being bandied between them. Now, I am not keen on visiting the vet, as it usually means that I get prodded, poked and pricked with a needle.

Soon a telephone call was made that proved my worst nightmare - An appointment was being made for me to visit the vet from hell. The weather outside was cold, windy and wet so my best waterproof coat was dug out of the cupboard. I was taken for a walk along the towpath to the nearest road bridge. Where we met up with a couple of friends of mum and dad.

John and Tracy are mum and dads best friends. They also have a dog called Holly, she is a King Charles Spaniel. We get along quite well, Holly comes and stays on the boat when her owners go away on holiday. I sometimes go and stay with them when mum and dad go away. It's good fun, Holly even has her own life jacket for wearing on the boat.

Say No!
To Rectal

Soon we were whisked away in their car and after a short journey we arrived at the vets surgery. I was through the door and up on the examination table in the twinkling of an eye. The vet started to prod and poke me. Then all of my worst fears were confirmed when the moment of lost dignity arrived. When without so much as a by-your-leave a rectal thermometer was inserted in a place where the sun never shines.

After a while the vet pointing at me said - "Has she been spending any time in the company of any other dogs?" Whatever could she mean, the cheeky bitch! I will have you know that dad says I am a good girl. I am a good girl and not in the habit of "spending time nudge, nudge, wink, wink" with other dogs. At length the vet pronounced her judgement "I think it is a Phantom Pregnancy" said the vet. Dad looked me straight in the eye and said - "What's this my girl, are you wanting to have a litter of puppy's?" He picked me up and gave me a big cuddle. I could see he was quite relieved to find out that I was not sick.

So now, I am on 1ml of a potion called "Galastop" every day for the next week. Dad says this will put my hormones back on track. Dad keeps smiling at me and giving me a funny look. He has a new cuddle name for me now, he keeps calling me a "broody old Hen". I have been thinking about puppies for the last few hours. I would not mind having a small family, I came from a small family of five myself. I am sure that Olive (my mum) would not mind being a grandmother.

Mum says that if I am to have puppies then we will need to go back home, as there is little room on the boat for a family of boisterous pups. Dad said there are enough unwanted puppies in the World without adding even more. He has been thinking for some time about getting me a foxy companion from one of the dog rescue groups. We filled in a questionnaire form with Fox Terrier Rescue about a year ago. When we did not hear anything back, dad said "It might be that the rescue centre think a life spent in pampered luxury on a boat is much too dangerous." He is a crusty old curmudgeon sometimes. He also said something about me being spayed, I'm not sure what that's all about. I will have to do a google search to find out later. 

That's all for now.

Yip Yap.

Love and licks to all.

XX Poppy

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