Rosie and Rupert are in love! He's castrated but I think the vet forgot to tell him. He follows her everywhere licking her back, her neck, her rump and she just ignores him - oh it's all too boring - I know I’m beautiful.
The vet came up to visit my old lady, Flavia, the retired Guide Dog. She’s 15 and I wanted a professional opinion as to whether or not it’s time for her to go to Doggy Heaven. Well good news! She is still with us. The vet doesn’t believe she's in pain. There is arthritis but mainly the problem is that the messages are simply not getting from the brain to the back legs, hence her staggering about. She's on cortisone and as the Vet said, she is still interested in what goes on and boy, does she love her food but then I've yet to meet a Labrador who doesn't. So, although conditions here are not ideal for her: tiled floors, steps down to the garden and lots of dogs, none are reasons to put her to sleep.
Talking of old ladies, it looks as if my 100 year old aunt in England is dying. My sister had a phone call from the retirement home to say that she’d deteriorated. Sally couldn’t get down that evening but went the next day to find our aunt in a deep sleep, almost a coma. The doctor had decided she shouldn’t be sent to hospital. Seemingly they don’t put people on drips when they are ancient, after all, this is to be death by old age. Mostly people die of something but in our aunt’s case, presumably she's simply worn out. The nurses moistened her lips and cleaned her eyes, making her as comfortable as possible. Sally went in to visit her twice each day. We discussed the funeral.
On the third morning Sally arrived at the home and there was our aunt, sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of porridge and drinking gallons of orange squash! Hold the funeral!
She will be 101 tomorrow. Happy birthday, Hilda!