You all remember Fred, don’t you? I do, I live with him.
We took him out for walkies down the field yesterday, same as ever and he started to sneeze on the way back. I’m not kidding, they were proper sneezes complete with Fred bashing his paw over his nose, like, “What’s happening to me?!” When blood started to appear as well as snot we decided to walk him rather briskly down to the vets.
Yes, I said snot. Dogs, in case you didn’t know, have mucussy stuff in their throats, same as humans. Trust me – I got some on my jeans when I tried to tickle him.
So we sat in the vets for half an hour (apparently you need appointments…), finally being told that Fred had inhaled something in the field that had lodged itself in his nose.
Yeah, really?
Being the kind, thoughtful people we are, my mum, Maxim and I abandoned Fred at the vets to get knocked out so they could tweeze out the incriminating object. He didn’t seem best pleased, but by that time the sneezing was starting to drive us crazy. There was Fred-snot all over the waiting room floor.
When we picked him up a few hours later, Freddie could hardly stand. Or walk. Or remember where he was. If fact, he was so doped up on anesthetic he sat still long enough for me to take photos.
And you have to admit, he’s cute. Especially when we had to move his back legs as he wasn’t sure what to do with them. The whatsit which had got stuck up his left nostril, by the way, was a spiky grass seed. We got it given to us in a plastic tube, complete with doggy blood, as a souvenir. I didn’t take photos.
Fred is now fine and seems to forgotten his ordeal entirely, apart from the odd sniff at the shaved bit on his leg where they injected him with anesthetic. If he does remember anything, it’s probably the chihuahua in the vets which got carried in in a cat holder. If he’d have been well, he would’ve died laughing. I almost did.
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