Firstly Happy New Year to one and all. I have been fairly quiet over the festive period as there is quite a bit of activity going on in the house and I have needed to be good. As some may know, this can be challenging for a beagle who lives with a vampiric younger sibling. I may have been good at times.
Walks have been taken with sights and smells duly appreciated. It’s been drab and dreary here since New Year arrived. We have mainly walked the lanes as the rain has turned our field walks into a muddy quagmire in places and our assistants complain of slipping and sliding all over the place when trying to control us. They need four paw drive. The number of people out walking, running and walking their dogs has increased significantly so our walks haven’t been as solitary as we would have liked but you can’t have everything, can you?
This morning started like the previous two or three. The parents were lazing about until Lenny planted an excellently placed pounce on dads kidneys. After our first half breakfast we were away through the lanes sniffing rabbits and squirrels in the hedgerows and walking through the filthiest puddles we could find. Having returned home, we had our second half breakfast and then we thought it was time for our usual session of bitey face followed by some snoozing, all interspersed with regular trips to the garden to check on the Sciurus position. As I returned from my fourth foray into the garden I found myself harnessed up again and attached to my dad who told me to be good, whilst putting a bag of gravy bones in his pocket. I had suspicious ears. We marched quickly out of the house and soon found I was in the car park at the vets. This definitely wasn’t in the script for a lazy Sunday. In we go and I am trapped in the consulting room whilst dad then explains to the vet that, on a few occasions, I have been a little less than solid in certain areas over the past six weeks or so and my diet has been changed to make it blander and more accommodating to my bodily functions. I looked at dad to inform him that I had not authorised this conversation to take place, but he just ignored me. Typical. All the embarrassing details are laid bare and I haven’t seen these gravy bones in his pocket yet. The vet thinks I may have some colitis which is normal for a “beagle of my age” and that the bland diet is a good idea so it should be continued for a week or two. Again I didn’t authorise this change to my food.
Then to add insult to injury the vet noticed that my annual boosters were due about this time. Cue the stethoscope and being investigated in my ears, mouth and round the back. I am apparently in good shape for a “beagle of my age” and it was then that the gravy bones miraculously appeared from dads pocket. My suspicions were exceeded by my craving for said gravy flavoured snack and I missed the vet wander around behind me with a needle to ensure I had my boosters for another year. The liberty of it all. The shame wasn’t finished though as I was marched over to the scales and dad told the receptionist that I was fourteen kilos. How could he? In public? In a loud voice? Whilst rolling his eyes? The only redeeming factor was that dad had to pay for my travails so this put a slight spring back into my step for the return home.
Quick session of bitey face with Lenny, followed by my dinner and I now find myself snoozing on the sofa whilst allegedly kicking mum in my sleep. I have no idea what she means.
And apparently Lenny missed me whilst I wasn’t here. Nice to know someone loves me.
Dexter 
Lovely post. Me, Dauphy and Bella all enjoyed reading your little adventures. Dauphy loves the fuss and attention he gets at the vets, but Bella hates going.
Dauphy particularly enjoyed reading something written from Dexter’s point of view. He is also of a certain age, and has gone for a snooze now. If you want to read what he’s been up to, please have a look at our blog.
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Thanks. I wasn’t particularly enamoured with the comment about “beagle of his age” as I will apparently be eleven next birthday. However I can still take Lenny on when it comes to snout jousting. One of my parents, who will remain unnamed, also called me a pudding after she heard about my weight.
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Lovely insightful post dexter. Happy new year to you lenny M&d .
I love reading your blogs .
Love Jacqui
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Thanks. I like dictating them too.
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My sympathies. My cats also hated being handled and messed about by strangers. My lovely Artemis developed kidney trouble and had to have an injection every month. After the ordeal we would give her her favourite: boiled cod. She knew to expect it and would go straight to her dish when we reached home.
I hope your “trouble” clears up soon. I know how annoying it can be. I think you are in good hands and loved, which is very important. Wishing you many happy walks and chases to come!
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Thank you. To be honest I don’t think the majority of us like being prodded and poked. The vet doesn’t seem too worried about my condition. They also feel that me being on a restricted diet will help any inflammation settle down, if such inflammation exists.
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The vet is no fun, is it? Even if the vet is nice, they generally want to poke, prod, inject or make nasty statements.
I have had colitis since forever (years) and we have to manage it. I don’t always help, cos I like eating things I find on our walks, and I get told off & put on the lead when I do that. She’s even threatened a muzzle 😦
But by & large, we manage with a bland diet (tinned chappie; vet nurse recommendation years ago & it’s worked for me) and restricted treats (not the amount, but the type). The main trouble with colitis is that it can be triggered by many things and you have to work out what triggers it for you. For me, I can’t tolerate kibble as my main food, though I like the occasional crunchy treat. The vet thinks I need a low fat diet, but I did once eat a bird fat ball with no ill-effect, but we try to keep treats low fat mostly. Big treat is a teeny cube of cheese 🙂
The other thing that triggers it for me is stress. And I can get stressed by quite a few things. Seeing my BH packing is one, so now she got sneaky and sent me off to day care while she packed for our trips (usually to her mum). Of course, with covid, there’s been no trips and no packing! And no day care 😦 But I did get stressed in lock-down. A combination, we think, of changing my routine but also my BH was VERY stressed at first (lots of naughty words over online shopping, for one thing) and my tummy came out in sympathy!
One last thing… we find that a little orange tablet (or liquid) helps a lot for me. It’s called sulfasalazine. So if my tummy starts playing up & I start stretching to relieve the cramps, I get a couple of doses of that and it usually clears it up quickly.
Hope your tummy is better soon 🙂
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I didn’t want to go in the v-e-t’s but I was accompanied by he who must be obeyed. And he’s stronger than me, along with having more guile in the shape of gravy bones (which don’t set off my tummy).
My parents cut out all the normal food pretty soon after I started getting bad symptoms. They reintroduced individual things and watched for the results. At first they thought it may be something called Fish Scuits which are a tasty treat made with salmon, so they immediately stopped them. I continued to have slight symptoms so they wondered if it was my usual meat food that I have twice a day. So they changed that too, this time replacing it with chicken. I am not going to complain at getting chicken twice a day. I seem to have settled down and the trip to the v-e-t helped as we understood more of the possible reasons. That the v-e-t also looked at the contents of my, well, you know number 2 and said that there may have been a tapeworm (note may have been) also helped as that may have been a root cause. I am wormed regularly so I shouldn’t have the problem on a recurring basis if it is a tapeworm. We will see. I know I will be watched like the proverbial hawk from now on.
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