So there we were enjoying ourselves on our early morning walks. I was out strolling the lanes with one assistant whilst Lenny was strolling the lanes and byways with the other attendant human. It was a little early in the morning but we didn’t think much of it, to be honest.
I returned to find the car wasn’t on the driveway. This was a bit suspicious but my stomach alarm was sounding and breakfast was calling. Into the house, paws cleaned (ugh the indignity) and then off to find Lenny to practice our pre breakfast bitey face shenanigans. I looked in the living room, kitchen, snug, bedrooms, bathroom and even under the beds. Nothing, nada, nil, zilch no Lenny. This made me very suspicious indeed but, again, the stomach alarm was sounding so off I thundered back downstairs. At this juncture I should point out that I worry my assistants greatly when I go bounding down the stairs as I am (counts paws) 16 and a quarter so shouldn’t be running around like a possessed fur. No one told me though and I always thought the saying was “you’re only as old as you feel”. Anyway back to the story in hand. My breakfast was served and I ate it at my normal pace, all the while noticing that I didn’t have Lenny looking over my shoulder to see if I had finished. He always offers to lick the lacquer off the bowl. My assistant told me that Lenny had gone off to the vet for a little procedure at which point she also told me that no I couldn’t have Lenny’s breakfast too. Meanie.
From Lenny’s point of view he said he had walked around for a while and enjoyed sniffing in the long grass when he was surprised to find himself being led back toward the house, suddenly arriving at the car. Duly loaded into the car, he settled down for the next part of his morning adventure which he hoped would include scenting, maybe some squirrel or cat bothering, some field food to snack upon and then back home for his breakfast. When they arrived at the vet, he was caught unawares and leapt from the car to his fate. Duly handed over to the vet, Lenny found himself being led away. Maybe this was the next part of the adventure. It was only when his assistant was told to call back around 3-4 pm that Lenny appreciated the gravity of the situation. Within a short time he felt strangely sleepy and was just wondering why he hadn’t had any breakfast when whoosh, he was away dreaming of all sorts of things.
Lenny was led back out to the waiting area in the afternoon to be greeted by the same parent who had left him there at the mercy of the vet. He was quite groggy and had a numb sensation around his muzzle but, the overriding feeling was one of hunger. He had a decision to make now. Either he could completely ignore his human or he could give him the “eyes” and get some food to stop the stomach alarm clock ringing so loudly. The latter option was taken and he left the vet accompanied by his attendant who had been charged a goodly sum of money. This made Lenny feel a bit better. His teeth had been cleaned and four taken away so this explained the sore numb feeling in his head. He was sporting a wonderful trendy green bandage on his leg though.
Upon arriving home he loped gently from the car, strolled quietly into the house and sat on his favourite bed. I was told clearly that there was to be no bitey face shenanigans and I was to stick to the rule. Then came dinner time and I was hoping I would get Lenny’s share too but it wasn’t to be. He was allowed soft food only so there was double soft food and no kibble in his bowl. This meant he got double meaty chunks and no crunchy stuff. As you will appreciate he managed to inhale his dinner after which he took himself off for a lay down and snoozed.
Over the next few days we tried to keep our sides of the bargain of no bitey face shenanigans but it was quite difficult. Anyway Lenny was soon enough back on his paws properly and resumed his daily activities of stalking cats along the lane, watching rabbits cavort in the hedge and barking at non existent visitors to the house. Don’t tell him but I did miss him. Ssshh our little secret.
Dexter 