Indignity
The indignity of not being able to do things for yourself can all get a bit much. Oh I know I should be grateful that I have a human to help, but just sometimes I’d rather look after myself. It was bad enough having to go to the vet again this week because my anal glands had become blocked again. Surprisingly, I was a good dog. I stood there calmly allowing the vet to do what needed doing. I tried not to think about exactly where her finger was stuck and just looked ahead thinking about Bonios. You have to do whatever works for you, but Bonios seem a good a thing as any to focus on.
A small problem
Anyway, that bit is not the indignity I’m referring too. As a result of the problem that caused I have slight haemorrhoids. I know, I know, it happens to the best of us. However, rather than take me back to the vet when it has not immediately cleared up, our Mistress has decided to apply some cream for me. That’s the indignity! Is there no end to the things humans have to do for me? I can’t get the cap off the tube with my paws, let alone squeeze just a small amount out. If the help had stopped there it wouldn’t have been so bad, but why, oh why does she have to do the whole thing for me? How can I maintain the image of a big strong Adonis of a dog with a human applying cream to my back end?
Ramp
On a brighter note, from the independence front, our Mistress has put the ramp in the car so we can use that to get in and out instead of her having to pick us up. Oh it’s all right for Wilma, she could probably jump over the car if she wanted to, but the rest of us are finding it a bit high off the ground. Alfie’s ok as he sits on the back seat and that’s still the same height as the old one. It’s the boot that’s changed. Our Mistress says it’s something to do with some cars having batteries, but as ours doesn’t that makes no sense to me as a simple dog.
Have a great Saturday
Aristotle
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