• Living Between the Lines

    From bad to worse and back again…

    I can only blame myself and yet… It began like this. Charlie Brown was limping on Saturday. On Sunday he seemed better…then he began licking his paw and limping again. Nothing for it, a trip to the vet was in order. Monday morning… My 93-year-old (“I’m almost 94,”) mother is staying with us. Lovely to have her here but tiring as her memory is going and the day begins with question – answer, same question – same answers etc.. There was the incident in the Black Dog where she asked what “WIFFI” was when reading it on a card on the windowsill. We explained that it was wi-fi. There followed…

  • Living Between the Lines,  Puptales

    A Tale of Tails…

    Flossie here, I thought I had seen the last of this contraption when I was a mere one-year-old pup! The Boss surely threw it away long ago. Hence, I felt quite safe when we went into the Vet’s waiting room, ready to have my tail looked at. A sore had appeared and despite my numerous lengthy licks, it had not got any better. I am sure it bothered the Boss more than it bothered me but I went along with her plans to have the Vet look at it anyway. I find it best to humour her. I got into the car without any trouble. I got out of the…

  • Mum is the word

    Mothers, Dogs and Teeth…

    The hospital car park is full. It is not just full, cars are double parked at every turn. We crawl round the multi-storey, us and others with the same hope of finding a vacant spot. As one, we form a shiny metal snake, slithering round the levels. Occasionally, one lucky person spots a vacant space and slides into it as another slides out. This happens perhaps three times in half an hour. The rest of us continue our slow descent to the exit. There are no spaces in the local roads, just double yellow lines and tantalizing permit bays. Steven and I explore the surrounding area to no avail. Other…