I Wrote This Lovely Post About My Dogs Then One of Them Refused to Acknowledge My Existence and Made Me Late

(It was all academic though, because I fucked up times and should have been there four-and-a-half hours earlier.)

I spent half an hour last week working on my CV, which is… interesting. I get that we have to sell ourselves and everything, but it’s hard to explain that my favourite hobby – sitting with Fred and Adonis and falling asleep – is a qualification worthy of employment.

Speaking of Adonis: the last I mentioned of him was that he was very ill and being given palliative care. Those of you well-versed in the art of counting may have noticed that his “six months to live” ended, er, a month ago. This is because he now has a ‘normal’ life expectancy for a dog of his size and upbringing: around three more years. He is on a special diet and has been on a cocktail of drugs since December, but as long as we give him his medication and never, ever feed him anything containing protein, he will be able to enjoy his nice little life…

…Which basically means that he sleeps a lot, chases and barks at everything that moves, gets Fred into trouble at least once a day and enjoys numerous cuddles with virtually every human who comes in the house. This is him the other day:


Fred is also well. He’s got arthritis in his hips and legs and he’s sore quite a bit, but he still leaps about playing catch, like a puppy, and exploring the far-flung parts of the field, like a puppy. He’s always been pretty laid back and he’s recently taken to asking – via paw-waving and grumbling – for his favourite blanket to be placed on his favourite spot on the sofa so he can hang out with whoever’s watching telly. He won’t sit unless the blanket’s been smoothed out and someone’s patted it (to check for blanket monsters perhaps… or maybe he’s actually asking permission?!) so he’s actually becoming a bit of an old-man dog. Quite refined in his tastes, apart from that day he ate Donnie’s tablets and had to get his stomach pumped, or this morning when he chewed a biro, or the other day when he herded me toward the stairs so I’d take them both out.


Whatever. They are my friends and I’m glad we found each other.

Some News (and I’m not being funny this time)

Do all you non-real-life readers remember Donnie? I don’t think I introduced him properly. My family found him – or rather, he found my family – in Greece in April last year, and we brought him home at the end of last January. He’s this little thing with huge webbed feet and a wonky face who breathes like Tim Minchin’s baby and hoards cuddles like that dwarf king did gold. He and Fred, our other dog, are amongst my top five things on the planet.

A few weeks ago Donnie’s eyes started going funny, rolling up in his head. My parents took him to the vet, who referred him to another vet, who diagnosed him with a disease called leishmaniasis. It’s a from a Leishmania parasite passed from sandflies to other creatures (humans can get it too but it isn’t a cross-species thing). Its symptoms can be controlled with drugs but it cannot be cured and it causes, amongst other things, kidney failure. Donnie went into a critical care hospital at the weekend after he stopped eating, came home on Tuesday and went back today, when he stopped eating again. He’s been put on a feeding tube and should be home tomorrow, but we’ve been told that he only has a few months left. I don’t quite know how to explain how incredibly unfair this is, or how distraught my family is – but I’m letting you lot know so if I don’t post for three weeks during the next six months, you need not worry; I’m sitting at home with Fred trying not to have a meltdown. I’ll probably also be doing a lot of pet-centric posts in the spring which I’ve thought about over the past year but never made because I assumed I’d have years to sort them out.

To prevent this site becoming too life-y, if the world doesn’t end tomorrow I’ll post the Indifferent Ignorance awards (and if anyone who found this randomly wants to post a spelling issue or something equally asinine, save yourself the trouble: my response will be to block you from posting again, or to tell you to go fuck yourself, or both).