Oh what a bad time I’ve had! After the glorious celebrations of Kate and William’s wedding I started peeing and pooing all over the kitchen- and on other floors as well. Daddy told me off a few times and then began to realise that there may be something wrong with me, so he took me out to Ardene Vets. I was welcomed as usual by my friends in reception, and then I had an appointment to see Paul.
He lifted me up on the high table, (he must be a weightlifter), and I was as brave as anything and didn’t shake or shiver. He felt all over my tummy and quite frankly I enjoyed it. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a rubber glove being lifted up and put on his hands. Oh dear!
Well, exactly what I thought was going to happen, happened. Up my rear end went his finger and my ears almost disappeared into my body. When I’m excited, interested or hear a noise, they stand up, but when I’m nervous they lie flat, and they couldn’t of been any flatter when Paul was doing his duty. However I didn’t bark or cry.
Anyway, after his very, very detailed- and I mean very detailed- examination, he said he thought I was suffering from colitis. He gave Daddy got a huge plastic syringe, which I sincerely hoped they weren’t going to stick up my bottom. Fortunately it turned out that this was to put the exact measured dose into my food. In addition to that Paul gave Daddy some large pills that I had to swallow twice a day.
When we got home, Mummy put a portion of the liquid from the syringe into my food, which was alright but she tried to hide my pill in some chicken. I couldn’t stand the taste of the pill so I ate the chicken and spat the pill out. She tried to do it in a different way but I spat the pill out again. Next time she took the pill and ground it down into powder and coated a piece of chicken. She gave me the chicken which I immediately spat out and then looked at her with a doleful expression. So the next time she tried she cut up pieces of chicken and mixed it all up with the normal meal and I ate it all up this time. Mummy must have remembered the song from Mary Poppins, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down”. In my case it is chicken.
The other problem was that the vet said to get a sample of my pee and gave Daddy a very small bottle. Now I may be a 1 year old male bulldog but I’m still not lifting my leg and so Mummy and Daddy had a terrible time trying to catch me in action as I squatted down- there is not a lot of room between my nether parts and the grass or the pavement. However, Mummy did manage and Daddy took my sample to the vet for testing. I await his analysis with trepidation.