Pollyism of the week
No-one warned me that taking a dog to the vet is more expensive than heart surgery. Well, that may be stretching the truth, but those delicious little creatures can cost an arm, a leg and a new car.
My little Scrumbles is a stocky and chunky roughcoat Jack Russell. He’s an absolute delight, but he’s a bit bung. You know how there’s always a dog in every litter that’s a bit bung? Well, that’s my Scrumbles. I don’t want to embarrass him, but he has some issues.
Firstly, one of his man grapes hasn’t descended, which apparently is not good at all. He’ll have to be neutered rather soon, to my partner’s horror.
“Can’t we let him be a man just a wee bit longer?” he pleaded.
Scrumbles also runs on three legs most of the time and he’s developed what sounds like a smoker’s cough. Yes, my dog is either a secret cigarette bandit or he has asthma. He’s been coughing like an old man who’s smoked roll-your-owns for 50 years, and we’ve had him back and forth to the vet so many times.
I had no idea dropping him off would be so upsetting. I was traumatised watching him being carried in for X-rays, with those big brown eyes all needy and cute.
I waited all day to get the call to come and get him. I waited and waited and waited. And as I waited, I became more convinced he had some rare terrier disease that affects their testicles, lungs and running style. I waited and then the call finally came.
“You can come pick up Scrumbles now!” a chirpy nurse said.
“What’s the diagnosis?” I asked, most concerned.
“Well,” she said, “he’s the cutest dog ever and we all want to take him home!”
“Yes, that’s awesome,” I replied. “But what’s wrong with him?”
The nurse asked me to wait while she put me through to the vet. “I think Scrumbles is allergic to something in your house,” the animal doctor declared.
Oh, no! Not only does my pup have a faulty ball, a three-legged run and a hacking cough, but he’s allergic to cats too? “Is it cats?” I asked. “No, it’s more likely to be a fragrance,” the vet replied. “Is it a recent issue?”
Then it struck me. The same time that Scrumbles started coughing was the same time I rediscovered my bottle of Chanel in the bathroom cabinet.
Oh, no! Surely not a dog allergic to Chanel No. 5? How could this be?
It’s either the Chanel No. 5 or my gorgeous fragrant candles from Peter Alexander – and both scenarios are absolutely horrifying.
Poor old Scrumbles. There is always a bung one in every litter, but I love my adorable, fluffy, bung puppy – even if he’s allergic to Dior, Prada and Chanel.
I suppose it would be worse if he was a poodle!