Happy August. We welcome this lovely sunny summer month with open arms, dollops of sun cream and cries of, “Phew, what a scorcher!” – what? I’m a writer and there’s such a thing as artistic licence you know. And we can dream can’t we?
It’s been an eventful week. My daughter’s pup, Poppy, has a fondness for socks. She has been known to help herself from the washing basket or off the clothes airer or even in a surprise hit and run attack while the washing machine is being emptied.
On Thursday last week she stopped eating and she was sick and very quiet. She was taken promptly to the vet and given her sock-eating history, they kept her in for x-rays.
And there, stuck in her small intestine, was a sock. This was returned to them after the operation in a plastic bag.
“Don’t open it,” the vet advised my son in law. “It’s very smelly.”
The trouble is, she doesn’t know that she felt ill because she ate a sock. Now she has a shaved tum with a long neat scar down the centre which she is showing off at every opportunity.
It was just such a relief to see her back to her usual self and I am so glad she's okay.