12 weeks and counting.

I haven’t been on here much recently as I have been busy recuperating from the operation on my cruciate ligament back on 6th January. I know I reported progress around three weeks after the operation but thought I would let you know how I am getting on. That is of course if you are interested.

I was at the vets each Monday for about 6 weeks after the operation. I had laser treatment but I avoided wearing the trendy goggles that are normally used. I had one parent alternating each night staying downstairs with me as I was banned from stairs for over a month. It was extremely boring staying on the ground floor as I was being regaled with stories from Lenny about sleeping in his bed and being able to stretch out, not being hassled by me during the night and getting midnight snacks whilst I wasn’t there. For the first few weeks the only outside time I got was in the garden which only added to me feeling stir crazy. Then during the day my walks started although they were short and slow which was due to me healing. Also my parents said that I was normally an idiot on a walk because I can smell a squirrel/rabbit/fox/deer (delete as applicable) from around a mile away. I went along a quiet road at a slow pace to help build up the muscle wastage that I had suffered over the preceding months. My mum was doing physio sessions with me three or four times a day. My leg was being worked hard but carefully to ensure that there were no relapses. Come rain and shine I was out on a short walk and then back to the house where I shown how to exercise my leg and get stronger. Treats and a peanut butter lick mat may have helped here, so I am not putting it all down to my own will power. Suddenly I was allowed upstairs although at first I was lead walked up to my bed at night. During the day I was still restricted to downstairs but I didn’t mind too much. After a couple of weeks of being accompanied I was found upstairs as I had secretly engaged in a bout of snout jousting with Lenny which had finished with us finding the best spot to look out of the window and check squirrels in the garden. We weren’t in the proverbial good books for a while, especially until they could ensure that I hadn’t done damage to myself.

When I went back to the vets for the last time, around three weeks ago they said I was doing really well, mum was doing a great job on my rehab and physio and I could start to go on longer walks. We had to increase the mileage slowly each week from less than a mile to a mile, a mile and a quarter all the way through to a mile and a half currently. I have been going to different places and its got a bit more interesting. I sill don’t walk with Lenny as he goes for longer walks than me and we tend to compete for scents when we are together. I’ve had a couple of setbacks where I started limping a little and then my front left leg was playing up. With the aid of some medicine and anti inflammatories I seem to be on the right path now though.

I couldn’t have done it without my parents. And even Lenny helped by giving me time and space to heal. He knew I was in some discomfort as soon as I arrived home after the operation although I think that the onesie, Fentanyl patch and me looking spaced out might have given the game away.

Anyway yesterday it was 12 weeks since the operation and we went to the beach in the wind and rain. We met up with our good friend Griff who brought his parents along. We walked and there was chatter with some cake and coffee mixed in. I’d had three walks all over a mile and a half. I didn’t even realise I had gone that far and there are no ill effects today.

We actually found the Bluebird Cafe in Ferring which was an excellent place to go and very, very dog friendly. Today we have mainly been sleeping and dreaming.

To this. At Ferring Beach yesterday

I’m on the road to recovery. For a “nearly” thirteen year old beagle I feel bionic but I am being reined in by my concerned parents. There’s life in the old fella yet.

Ferring or not Ferring.

We had an unexpected trip yesterday morning. As we left the house we saw that dad had his camera with him. Lenny and I also seemed to be going in the same direction. Mum asked dad “do you know where you’re going?” to which he rolled his eyes and got a poke in the ribs for being cheeky. As it turned out, he didn’t know exactly.

Along the little lane and then turned back towards home. We knew there was going to be a car journey. Great, another adventure. Soon after we had been lifted regally into our travel crates, we were off south bound. Right, left, straight over and then left into a car park overlooking the Channel.

This is going to be fun

We were allowed out and breathed in the sea air. As we looked up I saw a building called Sea Lane Cafe in Goring by Sea and then looked at dad, who looked at mum and sheepishly told her that this wasn’t the Bluebird Cafe in Ferring. I thought you knew the way! We all rolled our eyes at him and then set off east along the path and the edge of the beach. We strolled, counted beach huts, said hello to other dogs, strolled further and then found ourselves on the edge of Worthing.

There’s the pier at Worthing

We turned back at this point as it was getting warmer and the water bottle was running a little low. As we wandered past the Sea Lane Cafe (Not the Bluebird Cafe) we decided to see if it was possible to get to where we were supposed to be.

Lets go this way. No, lets go that way

Lenny was flagging by now as he has no stamina for longer walks. So yet again we turned and made our way toward the car.

I think Ferring is this way!

I have to admit that I was also tired by now so I was glad of a little rest in my travel crate. Once again we required to be regally lifted and placed in our respective places and off we set, retracing our journey northbound and to home. Maybe we will get to the correct cafe one day. When we got home we heard rumour that if breakfast had been taken al fresco, Lenny and I were on for snaffling some sausage.

Currently we are curled up dreaming of long walks on a pebbly beach with a stop off at a dog friendly cafe serving breakfast sausage fit for beagles. If only dad knew where he was going.