Florence Nightingbeagle

Christmas is almost here and its injury time again, but thankfully this time it’s us humies that are the “walking wounded” and not our Beagles. My injuries are pretty minor and easy to self-treat: golfer’s elbow and rotator cuff issues. Susan on the other hand is living the nightmare that is sciatica. It’s been troubling her at a background level for some time, but about a week ago it hit full force and the pain she’s had to endure has been frightening. Our doctors have done what doctors do best: handed out pills. Lots of ’em. When we went to the chemist to cash in Susan’s prescriptions I think we pretty much emptied their stock: Tramadol, Cocodamol, heavy duty anti-inflammatories, diazepam to ease muscle spams, and a neuropathic pain treatment that I can’t pronounce and therefore refer to as “armpit trampolene” (amitriptyline?). I tell you we’ve almost got enough to open up our own internet pharmacy. Just think, the next time you get one of those pharmacy spam emails offering drugs without prescription, delivered direct to your door in discrete packaging and all at a bargain basement price, it could be from us!

Ever sensitive to our troubles, The Beanster – our own little Florence Nightingbeagle – has been doing her best to nurse us through this crisis. Any time Susan has been trying to lie still while her pain meds kick in, Beanie has been ready to offer vigorous leg humping therapy. On occasions where Susan has had a glass of milk to line her stomach prior to taking her pills, our selfless little girl has tried to help her mum to drink the milk. And of course she’s always eager to help with the housework, especially things like cleaning the dishes.

Got some stubborn stains that the dishwasher can’t shift? Use a Beagle!

Biggles’ response to Susan’s predicament has been more conciliatory. He’s tried to keep his Mum warm and cosy by snuggling up to her, and has frequently offered his tummy for tickles; not for his own gratification you understand, but simply because he read somewhere that petting a dog can be very soothing.. for the human..

The Bigglet was also a genuine help to me when I was decorating our Christmas tree. That job usually falls to Susan because my approach to arranging the lights, tinsel and decorations is often too algorithmic, too balanced. This time around there was no option but for me to do it, but my waggy little assistant provided a necessary injection of chaos that resulted in what I think is a reasonably good tree. And amazingly he didn’t pull it over once!

Let me help with that Dad!

Christmas tree assistants always get treats. Them’s the rules!

Yep, job’s a good-‘un

Anyway, against all the odds we are finally just about ready for Christmas. I don’t need it to be white or merry; I’ll settle for uneventful & pain-free!