The Curse of The Nice Lady

Way back when Biggles wasn’t as biggly as he is now, he went to visit the vet and met a very nice lady who took him into the deeper recesses of the practice and promised him treats and cuddles. At some point during that adventure he got very sleepy, and when he woke up he had a big lampshade on his head and his pocket billiards set was missing two balls.

On Monday, he visited the vet again, and met a different but equally nice lady who promised him lots of cuddles and tummy tickles. She didn’t mention treats, but he’d already spotted boxes of Pedigree biccies in the waiting room so he figured they’d be part of the deal, or at least he’d be in with a chance of nabbing one of the boxes. The lady took him into the depths of the practice where normal visitors don’t get to go, and suddenly he felt very sleepy. When he woke up, there was a moderately sized lampshade on his head and his foot had huge bandage on it with a big letter “B” and a love heart.

It’s not like Biggles to fall for the same trick twice (really it isn’t – he’s much smarter than Beanie in this respect) but that’s exactly what happened. This time around he didn’t lose more items from his pocket billiards set, but he did have the nasty looking growth removed from his foot. The operation went to plan and the vet managed to sew up the void quite well – not an easy task given the lack of loose skin on the side of the foot – but we’re still looking at 10 days or so of severely restricted activity and bandage guarding.

Immediately after his op The Bigglet was quite easy to manage; he was still woozy from his meds, and his attempts at walking with that big lump of bandage on his foot were highly amusing (think of a toddler who didn’t quite make it to the toilet in time and you’ll get the idea).

Today however he’s wide awake, bored, and determined to get that blummin’ itchy bandage off his tootsie. The lampshade collar provided by the vet has already proved too shallow to prevent access to his foot, so I’ve swapped it for a much larger one we had left over from a previous misadventure, but even this can be defeated if he pushes it into the floor and contorts himself just right. To help beat the boredom and give him a break from the collar I dished out filled bones, but even here Biggles almost got the better of me; he feigned unbreakable interest in his bone while I was obviously watching him, then snook in a couple of exploratory licks and chomps at his foot. Fortunately I remembered how he’d done a similar thing as a pup (chewing table legs in the kitchen while apparently playing with a toy) and was still monitoring him out of the corner of my eye. Once I let him know the game was up, he became genuinely immersed in his bone.

At night he won’t fit in his crate with his collar on, and he can’t be trusted on his own, so we’ve made up one of our camping air beds in a spare room and he gets to sleep next to me on that. It’s cuddly and comfortable until I get side-swiped by the collar as he turns round, dragging me back into a fully awake state. Happily my life as a computer geek has given me the ability to function while sleep-deprived so I can handle that; I’m more bothered by the wait for the lab results on the growth – I’m really hoping it’ll turn out to be benign.