Bronchitis

Taylor looking fine the day before yesterday

I had a bit of a scare this evening. Taylor was lying down (crouching, not flopped out on his side) and breathing very strangely.

The noise was so loud and so unlike him that it took me a while to track it down. Then he lay down completely and his eyes glazed over and started to close.

I grabbed the phone and rang our local vet. He doesn’t have a surgery but makes housecalls instead, which can be very handy. I said I thought it could be serious and he asked me if Taylor was lying down. I said yes and he said in that case he would rush over. He arrived 25 minutes later.

What he didn’t tell me till afterwards was that he’d wondered whether Taylor might have been bitten by a viper, as it’s very much the season for them.

Anyway, he put his stethoscope to Taylor’s chest, took his temperature (he had a fever), and asked me a few questions. The diagnosis was bronchitis that might have developed into pneumonia, and the treatment – antibiotics.

I was relieved because, despite not having thought of snakebite, I’d imagined a lot worse.

Kepler’s operation

Neutering, castration, sterilization – I don’t know which is the uglier word. But it’s what happened to Kepler today.

Joules and Taylor have both been ‘done’ so there was no choice in the matter.

I sat with Kepler in the vet’s operating room till about 10.00, when the anaesthetic took effect, and by 11.45 he was ready to leave, groggy but strong.

He tried to run away up the drive when we got home, and it was only because he stopped to pee that I caught up with him. After that he slept for a couple of hours in front of the stove, twitching in continuous spasms. Now he’s sleeping peacefully under my desk, complete with Elizabethan collar.

Kepler before the op, exhausted from his gadding about

I hope his protracted visits to the neighbour’s dogs had a large hormonal element and that we shall now see a little more of him.

Although there’s a little less of him to see, poor little chap.

Kepler’s crimes

Kepler’s crimes are as follows:-

• He stole and chewed the mobile phone so we have to get a new one
•  He pee-ed on the rolled-up carpet which is rolled up to stop him pee-ing on it
• He pooped on a pile of coiled garden hoses so every coil had to be cleaned
• He chewed through the outer coating on my monitor cable

That’s just in one day. I think he’s letting us know what he thinks of his curfew – which has not been at all strict in any case.

Yesterday we discovered a nasty, festering sore in Joules’ armpit that he has, of course, been licking. I phoned the local peripatetic vet who I thought might have gone to work in Norway. Luckily he hadn’t. After he’d examined Joules, I asked him to take a quick look at the redness by Kepler’s private parts. He took this seriously and advised me to put the same antiseptic foam on that I will use for Joules.

Kepler started licking it off – hence the Elizabethan collar.

The vet also asked what Kepler had been eating, and in particular how much.  It was something about toxicity –  I didn’t follow him at all – but the upshot is that I must feed Kepler less for 4 or 5 days.

I decided not to give him breakfast any more, which I would have been weaning him off soon anyway.

Poor Kepler. More privations.

Taylor’s split claw

Taylor's split claw - compare the 2 claws next to each other in the light

It sounds very trivial, a split claw. But Taylor is applying his usual obsessive attention to it, licking and chewing and worrying at it.

We took him to the vet today, and apparently it’s not possible to pull out the longitudinal sliver of claw that has separated itself off, except under general anaesthetic.

But there is a chance it will mend and grow out by itself.

We were advised to put something called Pasta di Fissan on it. This is an anti-inflammatory, soothing cream which is used on nappy rash and such.

The vet also said that to prevent Taylor licking his paw, we could put a sock on it.

Ha, ha. If Taylor had anything on his paw – bandage, sock, even gypsum plaster - it would be his life’s work to remove it. And of course he’d manage it, probably within the first few minutes.

A new puppy

We had a vacancy for a third dog which we have now filled, it seems.

I mentioned to the vet in Terni that we were looking for another puppy, and after a long phonecall to the local Dogs’ Home, he announced that someone was on their way to show us 2 puppies.

One was a female black labrador-type – a sleepy-eyed, blunt-muzzled little squeaker who was generally acclaimed as very sweet.

Kepler

The other was a male of a frequently-seen mix – sharp-muzzled, alert and curious. I would guess he has some German Shepherd in him.

He had been believed to be around 4 months old due to his size, but the vet asserted that, since he still has all his milk teeth, he can’t be more than about 3 months old.

Clive took him on his lap in the car. The 2 of them seemed to have an instant rapport.

Although we both agreed he was an ‘ordinary mutt’, he had stolen our hearts and we drove away with him, paperwork to be completed at Joules’ next and last chemotherapy session.

We are calling our new puppy Kepler after the German mathematician and astronomer – continuing our trend in physicist/mathematician names.

He appears so far to be confident, friendly and intelligent. He has taken to Joules but is wary of Taylor who is giving him a sort of pantomime cold shoulder.