Daddy went to a pet shop and bought me a harness in red and black. I have no objection to the harness but when Daddy took me out to a party for puppies at the vets I was quite happy to go until they took me out of the car and tried to persuade me to walk into the vets. I sat down and refused to move.
Daddy and Mummy tried to cajole me to walk on the lead but I refused. Eventually they pulled me and my front feet were like brakes. There were other people leaving the vet with dogs of various sizes and they all looked at me and were laughing at my refusal to co-operate.
When we eventually got to the door of the vet’s and went inside I did exactly the same thing on the linoleum and Mummy had to pull me forward so that we could check in with the receptionists.
There were 2 other puppies beside myself at the party, one was called Enzo, a Goldendoodle which is apparently a cross between a Golden Retriever and a Poodle and another puppy called Skye which was a cross between a Collie and a Spaniel.
Enzo was at least 5 times bigger than I was and kept jumping all over the place all the time, came up to me, gave me love bites round my neck, ran away and so on. I looked at Enzo with an element of disdain because I am a pure bred Bulldog with a bloodline going back for generations. However after a while I decided to play with Enzo and Mummy let me off my lead and I entered the fray.
Enzo was tremendously extrovert and rushed up to me, knocked me over, rushed away again and we played for a little while. Skye eventually came out from behind his Mummy and Daddy but every time I went to smell her she rushed away and hid again. Obviously a very shy young girl.
The play went on for quite some time but I must say I got very aggravated at Enzo’s boisterous tactics when I was knocked over quite a number of times. I showed that I was my own young man and I growled ferociously back and tried to bite Enzo.
One of the vet’s assistants was supervising the party and other owners and dogs who were waiting to see the vet were watching us, including a huge Alsatian dog. After a while the vet’s assistant said, “Oh Humphrey seems to have something wrong with his back leg” so I was taken in and given an immediate inspection by yet another vet who prodded me all over – again – and moved my back feet in all different directions to see how I reacted.
The vet thought that I had hurt my rear right leg which in my opinion was caused by that overactive Enzo. After a while the vet said, “We may need to do an x-ray to ensure there is no damage but meantime I’m going to give Humphrey and injection.” I did not enjoy being injected into the back of my neck again. So we left early so that I didn’t do anything more to my leg.
When I got back home I had a very enjoyable evening sitting on Daddy’s knee and then on Mummy’s knee while they read the newspaper, watched the television or did crossword puzzles.