As mentioned previously, my bro and his wife came to visit this past weekend. All round we had a fabulous time... We drank copius beers, champas, frozen cosmo's and Pimms Royale - niiice. We ate like Kings... Laughed like hyena's... and drank like fish.
Saturday was fantastic in some respects, shitty in others. I'll get to the good part in another blog. I'd gotten up around 7 and headed down the beach for a walk with Billy - thats quite rare, usually I'd be sleeping in after a night on the turps. It was a glorious morning... sun was shining, birds singing, beach full of happy people walking their dogs, surfing, swimming or holding hands strolling along the sand. Bill was in his element! Running up saying hello to everyone and everything that passed by. On the way down to the headland, we came across a guy in the shallows with a Rotti on a leash. Although I was a little wary, Billy approached the dog, they sniffed each other and Bill kept on going... no problem! Continuing up the beach for another 40 minutes or so, Bill taking in the sights and scents. Me, thinking to myself, perhaps I should try to be more of a 'morning person'. There is something really nice about starting the day off on the beach. The colours are more vibrant, the light is softer and everything has a morning glow about it.
As we come back, Billy spots the Rotti again... This time he's on the sand, with a guy. Billy runs up to say hello and I don't think too much of it. The dog went into a submission pose and I thought it probably wasn't a big threat. Just then... bang! The Rotti jumps onto of Billy, growling and ripping into my poor little baby! Billy was yelping and crying and desperately trying to escape the clutches of this much bigger, and very vicious dog. I ran screaming up the beach towards Billy - who was wriggling while making the most horrific cries for help. He manages to free himself and runs over to me. Then he sits there frozen and whimpering. I check him for major cuts and he seems okay, but he just won't move. The guy with the Rotti, has grabbed him by the leash and is holding him back while he snarls, growls and keeps jumping towards Bill.
Eventually, Billy calms down a little and he limps down the beach. When we are a safe distance, I notice he has a few cuts and bruises on his underbelly - all around his little doodle. But, otherwise he seems okay... Scared, but okay. Me on the other hand... well my nerves were completely shot to pieces! When I got home, Micko asked how the walk was, and I started sobbing uncontrollably.
Billy recovered quite quickly... although over the past couple of days we'd noticed that his penis area was a little bit swollen. This arvo, I dragged him down to the Vet for a check up. Also, his baby teeth don't look like falling out anytime soon, so they need to be pulled - usually done when they get the snip, but Bill was too young and didn't have his adult teeth then. The Vet thought he might have broken his doodle bone, but thankfully it seems to be intact! Instead, he had 2 needles - inflammatories - and has to take antibiotics for the next 2 weeks. He's booked in on Monday for the teeth extraction. 400 bucks later and I'll have a happy and healthy pup again!
Dogs best friend can be an expensive exercise... what with the Vet bills, the stuff the destroy (luckily so far it's really only been a phone charger and a DVD from the Video shop), the food, the toys, etc, etc, etc. But, when you look at their happy little face staring at you full of unconditional love, would you really have it any other way?
Born in the late 70s during the depths of a harsh Melbourne winter, in her mid 20s, Karls migrated to a much warmer climate - then back to the cooler climate and once again to a warmer climate. With all this to-ing and fro-ing, she's discovered that home is where the heart is... in her case, anywhere that serves ice cold beer.