Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Don't ask.....

            I take it that the majority of you, my learned readers, have indeed at some point in your existence have had occasion and reason to grind upon your molars and lay curses upon the saying “the best laid plans of mice and men…” taken from the Burns’ poem ‘To a mouse..’. Well for this little Welsh Hobbit the week gone by has indeed dampened his enthusiasm for the making of plans, no matter how trivial seeming, for a goodly while to come me thinks.

            Today is the start of six, yes six, whole days of freedom from ‘the grind’, I even booked half a shift off last night’s shift to enjoy the six days without feeling like some bleedin’ sore headed ogre for the first couple of days off (the after effects of me cider is bad enough!). The prospect of a couple of long meandering walks exploring uncharted ground with that scruff of a Warthog alongside of me, well ok disappearing into the distance, consumed my thoughts and I eagerly waited for the time ahead. Now I know that wishing your life away is such a waste but the laborious ticking of the clock could not trundle along fast enough to the start of this week until that is….


            Oh now don’t you lot start with the sympathetic crooning for her, she’s still a bloody nuisance injured or not. So here’s the tale; last Wednesday evening after an absolute stinker in work (oh curse bless my shift leaders and their managers with their communication skills of a block of concrete), myself and the Warthog headed for a jaunt to what has become a regular location for us of late, Nercwys Forest. But being regular does not mean boring though for we try a different route each time and as you all know there is always something different and even intoxicating about being surrounded by Mother Nature and all her achievements, sometimes the jaw drop caused by a spectacular sunset …


Or the fascinations of a small find which I had no knowledge of before; indeed after returning home I had to look up the creatures’ pictured below and it turns out that they are ‘Common Sexton’ beetles or more, ahem, romantically ‘Grave digger’ beetles and were in the process of excavating a hollow in which to bury poor Moley who would then act a food reserve for the beetles eggs/larva once deposited on him, gruesome but quite enthralling don’t you think?





So the walk itself was a blast, what with grand vistas and the joy of the small drama unfurled before us. Little was I to know of the drama that would be awaiting Clare and myself once the wanders returned home. Once through the front door (no it is not round nor is it green, mores the pity), Willow headed for the water bowl and then carried on with her customary after walk collapse upon the sofa whilst I headed for the shower to wash away the grime and aches of the day, it does seem to me that as the years catch up on me the aches don’t seem to get any less nor does the amount of crap from the grind, whether it be machine lubrication or managers bullshit. Anyway back to the plot, refreshed from the shower I contemplated opening up another home produced cider, risky I know but oh the rewards far out weigh the next day’s frayed around the edges and slightly out of focus feeling. Clare – “before you settle just take a look at Willow’s rear left, she seems mighty interested in it” (alright Clare didn’t exactly say ‘mighty’ but come on guys poetic licence?). “Probably a scratch or a thorn stuck in her Velcro like fur” thought I. Oh foolish mortal that I am, I was not expecting what came to light as I held her leg to examine it; for there under her fur was a hole in her skin that stretched right across her legs’ width and tendons and bone could clearly be seen. Immediately I was full of concern and guilt, concern for the health of the little mite and guilt that I had no idea that she was so severely injured. In my defence there had not been the slightest drop of blood nor had the tough little bugger given any sign whilst on the trial, neither yelp nor limp had occurred, although she now made a meal of it holding her leg high as she limped along on the other three with the most reproachful look at me that she could muster!

We phoned the vet’s immediately explaining the situation to a very sleepy sounding Mr. Evans. Half an hour later we’re holding Willow, Clare on the leg, myself soothing and holding her head (Willow’s you fools) whilst we gratefully watched Mr. Evans carry out his examination. He was surprised at the lack of bleeding for the size of the wound but also concerned about the chances of infection being as both tendon and bone had been scraped. The wound he washed out fully and applied with some anti bacterial cream or similar type potion. It was only when he commenced the first of four stitches (with a bent needle that could have landed Moby Dick I felt!) that the blood appeared, oh boy like a larva flow from a fresh Icelandic eruption. It’s here that I have to admit to a slight failing within my character, I’m not good with blood. Yes you may titter at this supposedly gruff out doors type but blood can sometimes have a weird affect upon me and my constitution. Clare glanced over at me as I stared to sway, “go and sit down, your grey”, not feeling particularly macho at this point I meekly obeyed and gratefully thudded down in a waiting room chair, only to here the sniggering and tittering from Mr. Evans and Clare at my expense – bugger.

It’s been four full days since these events and Willow is healing nicely, she’s putting full weight upon her leg now (enough to snatch a biscuit from beside my cup of tea the little….), the prospect of infection now seems thankfully very slim and she’s doing our heads in being as we cannot walk her yet and she’s like a coiled spring not knowing what to annoy us with next. So we’re on baby sitting duties until the stitches are removed and the threat of infection has gone completely, should be a peaceful week then……

Ah just one more thing speaking of sitting duties, remember me sort of mentioning a broody hen recently? Well I spoke to my chicken guru John, and the upshot was we had three choices; chicken dinner (only joking, well…), trying to break her out of the broody stage by keeping her off the nest all day in separate accommodation, or giving her some fertilised eggs to mother, guess which way we went?



John kindly provided six fertilised eggs at my favourite price but the thing is we have no idea what to expect if any of them hatch, two were definitely from another Bantam (Silky me thinks), but as for the other four? Well I have no idea what may emerge, We'll just be glad though if any hatch and that they are healthy hens especially since Cruella seems to have gone on egg strike as a mark of solidarity while Penelope sits on her precious, as they say, “watch this space”.


Till next time, take good care of you and yours,

Your friend,

John

Bloody hell stop the presses, just nipped down stairs for a brew and to check upon the Warthog, last seen blissfully sleeping in the morning sun upon our bed: Yep Willow still on the bed sound asleep, but wait why's there a battery on the floor? and what's that sharp plastic embedded in me foot? and oh shit that's the remains of the bedside clock! why the little.... bollocks I'm in for it now when Clare gets home ah well such be life, now where's me big mug - might be me last brew.....

21 comments:

Kath said...

Get well soon Willow!
John, I worked for years at the vets and met many men who felt the same way about blood, or couldn't bear to see their pet injected.
I did smile about the clock (sorry) thank god the battery was on the floor and not in the dog :-O
I hope your last hours were pleasant (and tipsy) ones before your untimely and unjust execution at the hands of your wife LOL

Damn The Broccoli said...

Bless the poor mite, but I am sure she was having a blast at the time. The daughter is the same, only hurts when there is nothing else more interesting on offer!

WIth regard to the eggs, well chicken dinners may become an option if she stays broody, how many eggs are you going to raise in a small yard? Sooner or later that will become an issue, particularly if you suffer a larger share of roosters. People don't really want noisy boy chucks waking them at 4.30am for some reason. Still might be a nice replacement for that alarm clock...

William the Lurcher said...

Hope you are fully recovered soon Willow....don't let the humans pull your leg!

Murphyfish said...

Hi Kath,
I can smile at the moment, but then again Clare has yet to try and set her alarm for the morning - gulp!

Eh Up Damn,
Yes she was having fun at the time tormenting the furry critters of the woods. I can almost hear a sigh of relief for the respite she's giving them.
Hoping to keep two more hens if we're lucky enough for them to hatch, cockerels? I'd like to keep one but Clare says no chance so any of them will be re-homed - interested matey?

William,
Willow has instructed me to pass on her thanks, she would do it herself but she's far to busy dropping me in the smelly stuff again!

Jennyta said...

Aha! Typical male thing - you have to have an injury to compete with poor Willow's! ;)
Hope the poor little mite will soon be better - Willow, not you, of course...

Murphyfish said...

Ah Jennyta,
I am but a poor humble man me dear, although I fear my injuries may be more than imagined once the tooth marked clock is discovered ;o)

2 Tramps said...

After a trip to the emergency vet for our dear Chucky dog a couple of weeks ago for cheat grass in his ear, I am watching him so severely that it is stressful for us both! Still being a pup, he puts everything in his mouth and I am on constant vigil. Sounds like your Willow is a bit sneaky - makes life more interesting! Hope the healing continues - for you both!

Casey said...

The injury doesn't really sound too bad, at least there wasn't blood all over. Thank goodness there doesn't seem to be infection. I'm sure you'll keep a close eye on her - two when you can spare them (where have we heard that before?).

BTW - glad to see the chicken project is moving along well. Makes me want to add a bit to my rabbit stock. Down to just one female.

Take care John!

Gorges Smythe said...

Best wishes for your and Willow's speedy recovery and a merciful court when your wife gets home.

Murphyfish said...

Hello 2T,
Sneaky is an understatement regarding Willow, hope that Chucky pup is OK

Hey Casey,
Definatly sounds as if you need more rabbits my man, even two eyes on Willow is sometimes not enough!

Mr Smythe,
Merciful court? that'll be the day ;o)

John Gray said...

how is she doing now john?

Murphyfish said...

Hi John,
Hopefully a visit to the vets tonight will result in the stitches being removed - fingers crossed.

dAwN said...

Hope Willow mends quickly..and eats no more time>>hee hee

Sage said...

rolflmao - so funny that last paragraph.. no doubt she (the warthog) is feeling better if she can get up to mischief.. and you will soon be able to take her out soon enough.

Helene Burnett said...

Since you posted, you must have survived the clock incident. after all, you didn't chew up the clock, did you?

Hope Willow is bck to 100% and stitches free.

Murphyfish said...

Hi Dawn,
Stitches still in, out Monday, Willow not eating time, just taking all ours to watch the little so n so...

Sage,
Little bugger is like a coiled spring at the moment, cannot come soon enough the walks to tire her out.

Hi Helene,
Nearly 100%, stitches still there till Monday, then some walks we hope to build up her (and mine) stamina once more.

kmurray said...

You crack me up John! (that last paragraph just made my day full of laughter)

Hope Willow heals up well, and soon, so she can really keep you on your toes.

I'm also looking forward to seeing what comes out of those eggs. Last week at the fair I saw a chicken with baby ducks under it! Never know what you might get! lol!

Dmarie said...

poor puppy! but lucky to have such friends as will phone up the sleepy vet and let the chips fall where they may. :)

Murphyfish said...

Well hello Kari,
Ducks eh? that's all I bleedin' need ;o), to be honest me dear I've little (make that no) idea what type of eggs Mr. Grey has given me for Penny to sit on - could be interesting!

Dmarie,
You wouldn't be calling the little tyke a 'poor puppy' at the mo lots of other, less printable, words spring to mind - she's like a coiled spring and into absolutely everything. Mind you she's more than welcome to her attention seeking antics when we think what could have been.

danontherock said...

Hope you and Willow are well soon
Dan

Murphyfish said...

Hi Dan,
The little tyke is coming on in leaps and bounds (literally), soon be time to hit the trials me thinks.