Going Gently

Sunnier Thoughts and a Sunny Village

I pulled the last post because I felt that
1. It was all a bit negative
2. I was giving "air time" to a comment that deserved a brief "delete" and nothing more.
still, if I ever meet the person that left it, I will take great delight in bitch slapping her senseless
If you hadn't read the last post, well you have not got a bloody clue what I am banging on about

Mabel remains poorly this morning. I have managed to get her to eat half of one of our homemade sausages and part of a milk soaked bagel, and that was only because the rest of the dogs lined up next to her to have their own small portion.
She's just had her second dose of antibiotics and is sleeping in a sunny spot in the living room

At 10.30 I took the other dogs out around the village.
Its a bright lovely day and the village seemed busier than usual.
Carol , Gwyneth in her electric wheelchair and Peter were chatting by the church, Peter's black Labrador Billy was playing gently with Carol's new Welsh terrier puppy, Seren. Seren means "star" in Welsh.
They told me the latest village news- that another neighbour had sadly suffered a stroke and was in hospital.
I will drop off the lady's elderly husband some eggs a little later.Both had helped me a great deal when I started my Oral history blog

On a bench,outside the Memorial Hall, caretaker Pat was enjoying the sunshine with friend Jean and local character Gordon, from the pensioner bungalows merrily waved his stick at them and at me as I passed!
"How's the family?" he bellowed opening his arms wide at the the dogs, who all crowded around him like hens around corn
"Come to me" he laughed hugging them close and after I had eventually pulled them away he called after me
"Have a lovely day PETER!" he trilled out!
He never gets my name right.

Mrs Jones (Pen-y-Cefn), I could see was fending off two Jehovah's Witnesses at her bungalow door.. she waved at me energetically and closed the door quickly on her two guests after they had turned to see who she was waving at! She's a sharp old coot!

Albert was laying comfortably in the lane when we returned Waiting impatiently for his dinner
He shouldn't be peckish, I saw him eating a baby rabbit at dawn
hey ho

The Trelawnyd Intensive Care Unit

Mabel has a pneumonia

I had suspected as much.

She has a rip roaring temperature and looks dreadful

Being an over bred Bulldog means that you have an extra short trachea

and therefore the route between mouth and lungs can be dangerously concise

Bacteria and foreign bodies love the shorter route into lung tissue

Kennel club take note!

The vet was happy that I take Mabel home with antibiotics and anti inflammatories .

Because of some intensive" water-sprayer-in-the-mouth" therapy at least she is not too dehydrated at present.. if she were, he would have admitted her.

Mabel was happy that I took her home too

The strangeness of the vets frightened her terribly and with great difficulty she took herself off to the surgery exit as I paid the bill, where she stared sadly at the Berlingo in the car park, waiting to get home.

Her need to get back to her "safe" little Trelawnyd world broke my heart

She looked s a poorly.dog when she returned to the kitchen sofa.

But has accepted hourly fluids squirted directly into her mouth

Hey Ho

Mabel Sick

My weekend has been somewhat dominated by caring for a sick bulldog

The vet seemed more relaxed than I have been.

He seems to think that Mabel has a stomach bug

I was almost convinced she had somehow found some rat poison

When it comes to bulldogs, losing Constance so theatrically outside the Church gates has left me, I know, with an unhealthy neurosis when unwell dogs are concerned.

Despite eating some chicken and rice,

The big lump of bulldog remains listless, uncomfortable and obviously sick.

I don't worry about any of my patients as much as I do about her.

F*ck You!

Not as funny as yesterday's blog featuring the wisecracking Jason
but it sorts of underlines just how much old bods can be funny
working tonight!
hey ho

SGB

Around 3pm, I walk the dogs around the village and deliver eggs if there is a need to do so.
Today, along London Road, I bumped into the ever cheerful Jason, who as usual was carrying his toddler daughter on his shoulders.They were off to pick up Jason's other daughter from school.

As I stopped he looked me up and down slowly
.
Egg and chicken poo on my hoodie top
Ripped combats
Rubber over shoes,
hair all over the place
Not a good look, I would admit
"Do you know" he said "that The Red Faced Welsh Farmer ( RFWF) is setting up his own blog!?"
I fell for it
"No " I said
"Yes!... apparently he refers to you in it as The S.G.B.!"
"What's that stand for" I asked
He laughed
"SCRUFFY, GAY BASTARD!"
Time to tidy up, me thinks...........
and I am serious....

One Little Word

Last night's Jenny Agutter-fest underlines just how one word or phrase can elevate a pretty ordinary film scene into one that is remembered fondly by thousands.