Tag: beagle

It still really hurts

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It’s been a week, and while that’s nowhere near long enough for things to feel better, there are constant reminders of what we’re missing, which are making things even harder each time they happen.

But I said last week that you need to concentrate on the positives, and the fact that there are these constant reminders is testament to just what an important piece of the family our beagle was.

Each time the fridge is opened, each time some cheese or meat is cut, each time you grab a bit of biltong or some chips, you’re waiting for her to appear so that you can share a bit with her.

We had a braai on the weekend, which was a difficult one, because it was very much the beagle’s favourite thing. Four stages, lasting throughout the evening and into the next morning. First of all, the food prep, which, as described above, was always liable for a beagle tax. Then the cooking, because if you waited long enough and paid enough attention, something would somehow miraculously “fall” onto the floor to be quickly snaffled. Stage three: the braai dish would need thoroughly cleaning, once any leftovers had been put into the fridge. And then the following morning, when she would never come in from her morning ablutions, and you’d go out to find her sitting expectantly under the braai, waiting to have a nice long go at the – now cool enough – grid.

No-one barked at the gardener today. Not that she would ever go any further than just barking. Her bark was only just worse than her bite, in that she would never actually bite anyone, and her bark was merely enthusiastic and never more than that.

There was no-one to join us on our short walk around the neighbourhood this afternoon. Even when she was feeling rubbish, she still loved to snorf the road.

But while it’s all these little things that hurt each time you do them, because she’s not here to do them with you anymore, it’s more just the feeling of emptiness and quiet in the house that feels the most alien. I still come downstairs each morning expecting to be greeted with a smiling face and a wagging tail as I go into the kitchen, and it’s repeatedly been a completely shit start to every day when I realise that’s not going to happen, whether that’s as I wake up or as I open the kitchen door.

And while I can’t wait to feel better, I also don’t want to feel better, because it somehow seems like that means that I’m forgetting about her or letting her go. Even though I’m not ever going to forget, and I’m not ready to let go.

Ag. It’s been a week and it still really hurts.

Beagle Rollercoaster Confusion Continues

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Not an actual beagle rollercoaster. Although that would be a sight, wouldn’t it?

But no.

Sadly, we’re still struggling with the beagle’s health. And the bigger problem is that no-one can decide exactly what is wrong with her. High temperature, lack of appetite, general floppiness – and yet all her tests keep coming back negative for everything.

She’s been spending time at the vets for the last couple of days, enjoying some lovely IV fluids and antibiotics while they poke and prod as necessary. I took her there this morning, and carried her in, such was her drowsy, weakened state. And when we went to pick her up this evening, the head vet explained to us just how worried they were about Colin’s condition. It was a sobering listen. And then she went to go and get the patient, and we were duly amazed at the perky, waggy-tailed dog that walked out from the back.

Eh?

And then when we got our beagle home, we offered her a piece from the rotisserie chicken (BBQ flavour), we’d got for the family dinner. Long story short, half the chicken (half our dinner) was gone in a few minutes. And some cheese. Some pork biltong. And then some other chicken purposefully bought for – and previously ignored by – the beagle.

The first food she’s had in three days.

Right now, she’s contentedly snoring away on the couch next to me.

I don’t pretend to understand what’s going on. I just want her better.

But for more than 2 days in a row this time.

It’s that time again

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As the clocks in the UK and Europe “Spring” forward, we here in SA are reminded of our upcoming winter. No surprises that it rained overnight here then, and the day – while sunny – has been chilly. In fact, the whole week looks like it’s going to be much cooler than we’ve been used to.

That said, we’re back into the 30’s by Friday, so maybe I shouldn’t be quite so dismissive of the end of summer. But there is a chill in the air, and so I’m doing my best to ward it off with some brandy.

For me, the benefit of the clocks changing is that European football matches finish at a vaguely acceptable time. When you’re doing the school run early each morning, that extra hour in bed helps.

Last night’s braai (on SA time) went well, thank you very much for asking. And the beagle did get some nice little schnacks. She’s obviously not very mobile at the moment, but there’s nothing lacking in her cunning. No need to move far from the braai dish: that’s where the good stuff is at. So that’s where I’ll hang out.

And I’ll give everyone the puppy-dog eyes. And they can see me limp a bit.

Winning hearts and minds. Not stupid.

No sleep til bedtime

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Yeah, remember that song?

Tony Hawks is still doing the rounds on the more mature end of the UK comedy circuit.

But no.

Because I spent last night downstairs with the beagle – a rather swish, organised affair with a mattress and everything – and the beagle didn’t sleep very much, I am knackered. I have been knackered all day, and I’m off out to a birthday party this evening.

A late afternoon nap seemed in order.

I was all set up for that when next door’s kids (quite rightly) ignored the light rain and started playing outside, loudly. No sooner had I closed the appropriate windows than the dog across the road started expressing its outrage at one (or more) passing bastard squirrels. And then Mr Leaf Blower kicked in.

It did all rather seem like a conspiracy.

Anyway, long story short, I finally managed to grab an hour, during which time I dreamt vividly about a weird guitar competition involving an Austrian gentleman. As you do.

I’m feeling almost – almost – human again.

Let’s go party*!

* but let’s also not stay out too late, ok?

Return of the Beagle

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The beagle is back home after a night in the hospital. Yes, she’s smashed off her face on drugs, mostly wrapped in a MASSIVE bandage and quite pissed off with the world, but we’re all allowed to be like that after surgery.

It doesn’t help that it’s the hottest day of the year. When the sun – already lower than proper summer – hit the thermometer earlier, it showed 46.8C.

But even that was only 11 more than in the shade.

I’ve just remembered that I’m playing football this evening. :/

So now comes the hard work. The rehabilitation, gentle exercise, general care. Of the beagle, obviously.

A long road ahead. But it’s good to have her home.