There but for the grace of ........

Posted on 18th February, 2011

Friday February 18, 2011                                                                                                                    


Ouch! And ouch again!


I’ve spent the whole morning with my legs crossed

because word reaches me that Dillon, the Staffie

belonging to Louise, a friend of Dad’s, has had the snip.


Poor lad. Happily I’m still intact - perhaps

because there was some crazy talk about me

strutting my stuff at Crufts. As there is about

Stupid Brother. Which is even more bonkers.


Apparently, boy dogs have to have their alberts to be

eligible to enter it.


Anyway I digress. I think another reason for me avoiding Dr John’s scalpel is that the cushions in our house never appealed to me.


But I must confess I did have a crush on Uncle Kevin’s right leg in my youth. And Uncle Richard’s left one had a certain je ne sais quoi.


Back to Dillon. To add insult to injury, bereft at one end, he’s now looking daft at the other. That’s because he’s got to wear one of those Victorian collar things, which is designed to stop him from being able to confirm the dreadful truth – that his crown jewels aren’t where they should be and have been decanted into a jam jar for some spotty wannabe vets to prod and peer at.


What an indignity. If I was him, I’d be plotting my revenge – courtesy of what I’m told is a very potent weapon – his capacity for silent but noxious bottom burps.


Go on old son. Let rip. That will learn ‘em.

Make A Comment

Characters left: 2000

Comments (1)

Hi Rolo

Dillon here. Just thought I'd give you an update on my 'delicate' situation.
Basically I was hoodwinked. A quick trip to the vets I was told but should have realised there was something up when after the normal early morning ablutions had taken place it seemed mum had forgotten my breakfast. No amount of the head down eyes up look worked so retreated to my bed. Then mum got my lead and we were off in the car to the vets - now I like the vets, lots of fussing and being told how handsome I am is no hardship so after the normal greetings I was led off by a very nice nurse who smelt lovely, eau de mutt I think.
Well to cut a long story short there was more fussing which made me very sleepy and the next thing I know I'm laying on a nice sheepskin rug in a cage in a room with other dogs in similar cages but who appeared to have been attacked by a lampshade. Unfortunately I then caught a glimpse of myself in the side of the cage and embarrassingly the lampshade had got me as well. Being a rather proud chap I had it off within 2 minutes and it made for something to chew on - no substitute for a decent breakfast though.
Now if your squeamish don't read any further 'cause it was shortly after I got fed up with the lampshade I thought i'd have a quick wash 'down below' and ... and... I can barely write it down but 2 parts of my crown jewels were missing. It didn't matter how much nuzzling, licking or poking I did I couldn't find them, just a little clump of stitches. The shock was too much and it was only when the nice nurse came with some fresh chicken that I felt strong enough to look again. Well to be honest they only ever came in useful when I was bored and after being taken for a quick walk with the nice nurse I found it did give me a little more room when striding out and at least I wouldn't have problems with chafing when it got a bit warmer.
Mum picked me up in the evening and I have been spoilt rotten for the last 24 hours and have decided to milk it for all its worth for as long as I can - big eyes and turning my back on them all every so often works a treat!
And yes Rolo, I have been letting rip, eau de eggs ........ must be the chicken.