The Further Adventures of Indiana Bones

I’m not letting her say anything this time. I think she’s said enough. In fact I think she’d said more than enough when she said to the vet, “Okay, let’s do it.”

The day had started off innocently enough. Yay, I thought, a ride in the car. I love going out in the car. It saves my little legs the walk to the fields.

But we didn’t go to the fields. We went to the V.E.T. There was a rather attractive and elegant lady Deerhound in the waiting room. She spoke kindly to me and I gave her a sniff – a very polite sniff I should say. We settled down together in a fug of terrified silence.

I was so glad when Elena came out and called my name. I like Elena. She put stuff in my eye and turned off the lights then gazed deep into my eyes. “Still blocked,” she said, peering up my right nostril. “We could flush the tear duct under sedation.”

Then I heard the word “starve” and I’m afraid I went to pieces. I collapsed in a heap on the table as my bones turned to jelly. I don’t do hungry.

I knew something was up. For the next few days people kept patting me on the head and asking after my health. “I’m fine,” I told them. “Leave me alone. I don’t need no operations thank you very much.”

Then there were the sad mournful looks. Blimey, they say spaniels look sad, but we’ve got nothing on those humans. I mentioned my worries to Tilly and she just curled up next to me and sighed. And she kept sighing sadly and looking all miz and bereft. I told her to shut up.

I don’t know about me having a leaky eye, but that human of mine was leaking a bit by Friday. She kept going on about the internet and things she’d read. Like “it not being worth the risk of an anaesthetic” to “left untreated it can lead to blindness and even the loss of an eye.”

And she said “Are we doing the right thing?” about a million times. Not to me. Oh no. No one asked my opinion.

I had my tea early on the Thursday and no chewy in the evening. I kept telling her she’d forgotten, but to no avail. Then Friday morning I went to have a drink and my water bowl had gone. Hey, I said. I always have a drink after breakfast. By the way, when is breakfast? It’s not normally this late and I am starving. If I owned a watch I would have tapped it.

Would you believe she forgot? Then she took me out in the car again – without Tilly. Ha ha, unlucky, I told her as I sped out of the door. I could hear Tilly howling at home as we drove off.

Then I realised we weren’t going to the fields or the woods or the beach. She told me she was going to be leaving me at the vet’s, but would come back for me later. I wasn’t really listening. I could hardly hear anything over the sound of my stomach rumbling. I couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to give me breakfast.

Elena was waiting. She asked me to step on the scales. I was reluctant. A guy has his pride and anyway, when was breakfast?

Mum dumped me on them like I was a piece of meat. I said look, it’s just the occasional bit of food that falls from the hands of small children. It would be churlish to refuse. How can I say no to them?

She said my weight was fine. I knew it would be. Then we went into her surgery. I looked round. I couldn’t see any food. She listened to my chest, checked my gums and – gulp – said she was going to take my temperature. Mum said I’d have to stand up for this bit. Well I don’t know what it had to do with my temperature, but what happened next was a tad embarrassing.

Elena said I was in good health and they discussed the risks of sedation. What about the risks of not giving me breakfast, that’s what I wanted to know. The next thing Elena invited me to go with her through another door. At last! She knew I was hungry and was going to give me breakfast. I left Mum behind in my hurry to get to some food.

I don’t remember much about what happened next. Someone shaved my leg. The next thing I knew I woke up feeling a bit twitchy. A nurse smiled at me and stroked my head and said I was brave. Too blinking right I am – I hadn’t had anything to eat since the night before.

They left me to sleep it off. Sleep what off? My hunger? That doesn’t work. Anyway my stomach was rumbling so loud everyone else was complaining that it was keeping them awake too. And something else occurred to me. I needed a wee.

I dozed on and off, then the nurse came in and said it was time for me to go. Where? To dinner? My legs felt all wobbly and I followed her out to the waiting room. Mum made a big fuss of me. I was so weak from hunger I couldn’t see straight and the room was spinning. The nurse stroked me and said I was a good boy then she said the magic words, “Give him his tea when he gets home.”

Mum had to lift me into the car. I was on the brink of collapse from starvation. I sprawled across her legs. “Aw,” she said. “He’s gone to sleep.” No I hadn’t. I’d passed out from lack of food.

When we got home she tried to take me in the front door, but I still needed a wee – desperately - and refused to go in. She said I was still dopey. Huh! Talk about adding insult to injury. She let me go into the back garden and I rushed over to the nearest bush. I couldn’t even keep my leg up and had to do it like a girl.

Speaking of girls, Tilly came rushing over and licked me all over my face till I was soggy.

She said breakfast had been great and I’d missed a treat. Bacon, eggs, sausage, fried bread, beans, sweet milky tea …. I think she was lying.

But I had the last laugh. Mum made me scrambled eggs to have with my food. Tilly had some too. She said she was glad I was back and she’d missed me. She said it was a price worth paying if we were going to get scrambled eggs and said she’d give it a few days and then poke me in the eye…

A week later I went back to the vet and we had to wait because there’d been an emergency admission. I got shouted at by a cat and had a conversation with a poodle with Cushing’s.

Anyway, Elena looked deep into my eyes and smiled and said I was fine! I said I’d had my breakfast thank you very much, but I wouldn’t mind something else to eat if she had it.

Well at least I came home with no bits of me missing – I still haven’t forgotten that particular “little operation”! But for now, back to having fun.