No Tears Left To Cry.

Crikey, what a right ole time I'm having lately.

Last time I posted, we weren't sure if I needed an operation. Mummy decided to take me to a new Dr to get a second opinion. The new Dr was lovely and kind, although she did hurt me a bit. She made a cut in my tummy and flushed it with a syringe. She told mummy to put manuka honey on my wound and I thought, yum yum, I can lick that, but mummy told me no, so I was a bit disgruntled about that.

A couple of days later, we went back to see the Dr, I was very excited because last time I got lots of duck treats. The Dr said I looked like a very well little boy and that my wound was healing nicely. Great I thought, business as usual then, let's get down the beach and hopefully the pub later, maybe even see the kids at the Chinese takeaway and beg for a bit of their tea, quite frankly I was bored of all that convalescing.

So, I had a nice time for a few days, I went to see a band, had a chat with my friend the swan, although if I'm honest, he's a bit aggy and makes some rather aggressive hissing noises. I chased balls and chewed sticks. I certainly didn't lose my appetite and pushed my friends out of the way when any treats were being handed out, I even went for a paddle in the sea, you know, the usual routine.

I even took part in a doggy contest, I wasn't interested in winning, but the man next to us had a pocket full of treats, I soon let him know that if he was dishing them out, I'd be first in line thank you very much.

Then it all went wrong shaped, pear apparently.

My wound started weeping again and I had to go back to the Dr's. Uh oh, the word operation was mentioned, but we went home and I thought, well that was painless. Little did I know that the next day, I was going to be taken back and one minute it was going to be all duck treats and loveliness, the next minute, woozy head and very sore tummy.

Turns out, I had a grass seed working its way into my tummy.

I was right out of sorts I can tell you, I didn't want to do anything for a couple of days. Mummy took me back to the Dr's and as soon as I walked through the door, I made a miraculous recovery. I mean, the Dr wasn't to blame, it was all mummy and daddy's fault for leaving me there, and don't worry, I was making them feel bad about it.

She said I looked great, so we were all relieved and I thought, well, I better start putting a brave face on and start trying to get back to normal.

Then it all went wrong again, it's a dogs life I can tell you.
My tummy started to swell, you almost couldn't see my dinkle, imagine that.

Mummy rushed me back to the Dr's and she said I'd reacted to the dissolving sutures. She stuck a needle in me and I screamed the place down, mummy was crying, don't ask me why, the Dr didn't stick a needle in her!

Ooooh I was sore after that, although at least I could feel my dinkle again.

So, now I'm the wounded solider again and back in my bed.
When I'm feeling better I'll write again.

Till then

Love and woofs
Dino xxxxxxxxxxx