I’ve not been well lately. I’m better now but boy was I bad for the longest time. It started off with a cough like I was a 60 a day dog who’d smoked his way through an entire field of tobacco plants in deepest, wildest Virginia. Let me tell you, I was hacking worse than a News of the World journalist desperately in need of a good story to fabricate!
After many visits to the vets and lots of injections, medications, blood tests and even x-rays, I was still coughing like I was trying to avoid doing serious time so the vet decided to bring out the big guns. When he mentioned camera work I naively thought I was going to have my picture taken or something. If only!
No, first he stuck the camera down my throat which made me feel like I’d swallowed a whole television crew, and when that didn’t produce any results, he decided to stick it up where the sun doesn’t shine for good measure. Now what that particularly distasteful and unsanitary exercise has to do with a cough I’ve absolutely no idea. The very thought of it makes me want to ‘cough’ in my rompers even now. I only know I came out of the anesthetic high as a kite, singing soprano but still coughing like a barking seal.
So several more blood tests and antibiotics later, Peter, my vet, decided I might need to see The Supervet for a second opinion if my cough didn’t subside.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge fan of Noel Fitzpatrick. I think he’s a wonderful man who should be knighted for his services to sick animals. Seriously! But as much as I’d be honoured to meet him and delighted to shake his paw for the wonderful work he does, the thought of yet another vet repeating all the previously unmentionable tests would be enough to make a severely arthritic gay dog with one leg get up and run in the opposite direction. Speaking personally, I’d rather turn vegetarian than have another camera crew probe my rear end and take pictures so they could send them to their mates on their Smartphones. Especially when the cough was from the other end altogether! I mean to say. What kind of person can confuse the two distinctly different orifices? You’d think the fact that only one opening has teeth would give them a clue which end to check for a cough!
Anyway, as luck would have it, it wasn’t necessary. Peter decided to try another antibiotic and that finally did the trick. Now the cough has gone, and his initial diagnosis of Kennel Cough appears to have been right all along. Not that I’ve been anywhere near a kennel in my life, but apparently you don’t need to in order to develop canine infectious tracheobronchitis as we dogs like to call it. It appears you can catch it by sharing a water bowl with a contaminated dog or simply by meeting an infected dog in the park. You can even inhale the virus particles without knowing it and without actually meeting an infected dog. Scary!
Anyway, I’m pleased to report I’m all better now and back to my normal self. Best of all, I’m no longer bedridden and housebound so “Walkies” is back on the menu!