Wee'll meet again

The weekend nearly went according to plan; Piglet knows how to choose his moment! He'd been a real grumpy-bum for the last couple of evenings, so I'd wondered what was wrong - I found out when I was setting out with them for their afternoon walk and noticed he was cocking unsuccessfully.

Panic stations. Back home (with the dogs protesting about the rubbish walk) to ring the vet and say we were on our way. This was at 2.30; surgery closes at 3 on Saturdays, and Leamington's 10 miles away. Isn't it always the way that, in an emergency situation you get stuck behind Mr Forty-five-mph-is-plenty with no opportunity to overtake, and all the traffic lights turn red at your approach? We parked as close as we could to the surgery and ran, which seemed to help a lot because, as we paused outside the vet's Piglet cocked his leg again and the floodgates opened! No rodding required thankfully. He was given a quick check over (because it would be rude not to), while the vet nurses sulked at not being able to add catheterisation to their list of accomplishments.

So home, in a more relieved mood, to find the lovely Omally had arrived to help us install our new computer. This, of course, involved copious imbibement whilst downloads were uploaded and uploads were downloaded (I think), finally calling it a day having watched White Horses, the Clangers, Ivor the Engine (psshhtaka, psshhtaka) and Noggin the Nog at one in the morning. Astonishingly when I went into the living room to get the dogs to go to bed all the cheese was still untouched on the coffee table; even Ned's favourite stinky ones. So no worries about a) squits or b) impaction from the clingfilm. What good dogs!

We all felt a little fragile today, and I forgot to thank Om for being wonderful.