Shaggy dog with lame paw to rival Richie McCaw

Dog inspired by joy following our return from Northern Territory and his liberation from kennels, promptly put its foot in a rabbit hole and instantaneously turned itself into a three legged cripple. Good news was that Drama Queen no.2 misheard vet when he estimated the cost of operation and she went pale in the certain knowledge her parents would not be paying out tens of thousands of dollars to get the dog back on four feet. Bad news was that the correct figure was still enough to make me suck in breath with an audible hiss that had the dog jumping about on its remaining back leg. Good news again, is that dog is insured which is fortunate given his predilection this year for bizarre accidents – anaphylactic reaction to bee sting and expensive operations - anterior cruciate ligament (for the technically minded) this time round.

Dog has been knocked sideways by the operation– almost literally if you take the hopping motion into consideration. Owing to a frenetic desire to get his tongue round the stitches he is now sporting a giant sized cone on his head and to add insult to injury as three legged dog he can’t work out how to cock his leg for a pee - every bit of male dignity is affronted.

Whilst on the topic of invalids in household, the builder is back at work after an injury related 6 weeks off – not that he actually lives with us though I am beginning to think maybe mandatory detention until the job is finished may be the answer. I had a friend from our time in the US who summoned a bat man (I’m sure there is a technical term for this type of person) to deal with a bat that she spotted flying down a corridor in her house. In that obliging way of tradesmen he said he couldn’t find any bat so he would be off now, thanks very much, whereupon being a woman of spirit she reputedly announced he wasn’t leaving until he caught it and she would make up a bed for him in case he had to stay the night. If I remember right she was marching him upstairs, presumably towards the spare bedroom, when the bat sensing its moment, flew past them and he grasped it in relief. I’ve always loved imagining the “Sorry Darling, I’m not coming home. This woman won’t let me leave until I catch her bat.” conversation bat man would have had with his wife. I also think it’s a tribute to my friend’s strength of personality (or perhaps attractiveness) that he meekly fell in with her home detention demands.




NB note dog sitting in front of builder debris!

Rugby world cup almost at an end – sadly my support seems to be kiss of death to any team, as in quick succession the Scottish, English and Australian teams have trailed off the field of play, so I hesitate to announce that I’ll be barracking for the All Blacks. Perhaps I’ll just limit myself to hoping that the New Zealand captain Richie McCaw’s injured foot recovers faster than Pluto’s and that he doesn’t have to wear a cone on his head for the match.