26th June 2006
Hi all,
I had to take Cookie to the vet last week. Just a minor problem with his nose looking a bit dry, but of course any visit to the vet can be traumatic. Maybe that's just me though.
I worked through my lunch that day and got home early, all ready to get Cookie down the road for his 6.40pm appointment. We left in plenty of time and arrived at the car park just behind the vet's at about 6.30pm. I clipped Cookie's lead on and in his usual fashion he pulled me towards the vet's at quite a pace. Can you imagine a child running to the doctor's like that? It just wouldn't happen.
We checked in at the front desk and sat down to wait. Thankfully it was quiet, allowing us to take a place away from all the other animals. When it is busy it is a different matter as Cookie gets too excited, barking and attempting to pull his lead clean out of my hand. The first dog we see leaving the vet's office is a Rottweiler. Cookie forgets how much small he is and starts barking. I ruefully smile, shake my head and tell him to sit. "Stop pretending you're brave," I say as I stroke his head. He turns round, his eyes sparkling.
Our wait continues. Another dog joins us in our section of the waiting room, a Golden Labrador called Chloe (you couldn't make it up!). It only takes one other dog to get Cookie excited, but once the owner of a cat on the other side of the waiting room enters the vet's office we can switch to that side and hopefully keep Cookie calm.
Once we switch over Cookie does calm down. On the other hand I've started to become nervous, twitchy. All of a sudden I start thinking every negative thought I can possibly imagine.
Cookie's eleven this year, he's not getting any younger. That's quite old for a dog. What if this isn't something minor? I don't want to be without him. My stomach tightens, I have to stand up and start pacing.
This is terrible, what time is it now? 6.50pm. I hate waiting. Let's get this over with.
Finally we're called. Cookie dances round the vet's table a bit before I manage to pick him up and put him on the table. The vet is terrific with him, putting an arm round him, giving him a treat. Cookie responds in kind, flashing his sparkling eyes in her direction and licking her fingers as she tries to examine his nose. The answer? Probably just an aging thing, but we're given a cream for his nose, just in case.
On the way out we check Cookie's weight. He sits bang in the centre of the scales. He knows the routines off by heart. I pay for the cream and we return to the car. I can't stop smiling, I feel so relieved. I've got a lump in my throat and my eyes are moistening.
I love this dog so much. I'm going to cherish him while we have him. I'm so glad that's over with.
We drive home, leave the car and enter the house. Cookie greets Lorraine and Chloe as if to say, "I'm back. Did you miss me?" Gotta love that dog.
(And yes, I know. If I'm that worked up about taking Cookie to the vet then goodness only knows what I'll be like when I have to take Chloe to see a doctor.)
Other points of note this week...
A particularly random week for my wife this week. First of all while Lucy Partridge and her fianc?e Douglas were visiting on Saturday night we got into a discussion regarding my playing football, brought about by the site of my new and currently unused shinpads. Douglas mentioned that he had played football earlier in the day, and so naturally enough we asked who else had been playing. Following one of the names Lorraine interrupted by saying "He must have shaved his beard off!" about one of the players, which naturally led to a few funny looks.
However she managed to top that following the England-Ecuador match on Sunday. At the conclusion of the game BBC1 immediately began showing some children's party at Buckingham Palace (thank you BBC1 for launching straight into that, not even a news bulletin in between the programmes to allow us football fans time to escape this mince). The programme had barely started when Ronnie Corbett appeared on screen, which surprised Lorraine a bit. "That's Ronnie Corbett," she said, "But he's dead!" Well he was looking well enough to me (of course Lorraine had got him mixed up with his former comedy partner, Ronnie Barker).
I'll leave this week with the possibly the best two quotes of the World Cup to date.
"It depends on who the woman is. A little bit is okay." Ecuador coach Luis Fernando Suarez on whether his players should have sex during the tournament. It's like the old question about whether women should wear make-up, to which some people answer "Some women should definitely wear make-up."
"The sickness continued in the second half and it just came out." David Beckham on throwing up during the England-Ecuador game, using an unfortunate choice of words.
Have a good week!
Tony
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