Rotten apples
At what point do rotten apples turn themselves into alcohol? Should I be worried that Aristotle is still so keen to eat them? Mum is clearly not happy about his enthusiasm. I think she’s starting to worry that she has an alcoholic dog on her hands. She has even said that she will put them all in the green bin now so that he can’t have any more. It’s just a shame for the birds as they were still enjoying them. Mind you, it must make flying pretty difficult if the apples have turned to alcohol.
Amateur sleuthing
Mum has been doing some amateur sleuthing. Not so much the regular sort as piecing together what seems to be wrong with Shadow. She has developed a theory and now needs to talk to the vet about it. If she’s right, then the odd thing is that the most important thing is to sort out Shadow’s gastrointestinal health as that is the root of the problem. In the bright side, some of that is easier to do and some of it is easier to spot the warning signs so to be more prepared. In the meantime I guess we just have to get used to getting up twice a night most nights. I mind that less than Mum does.
The week ahead
We have one week until Shadow’s 13th birthday. Mum has asked her what she’d like to do to celebrate. Unsurprisingly, she has asked for steak. I may have nudged her in that direction but it’s something you really can’t have too much of. Shadow asked if she might have just a little game of ball, her and Mum on their own. She can’t play with me as she tries to keep up and it’s all too much for her. The problem is that she really gets obsessed and overexcited, which Mum doesn’t think is such a good idea. She’s thinking about it.
Love
Wilma