Benny and I took our last walk together today as fertile man and fertile dog, which isn’t strictly speaking true, apparently he can still provide the right stuff to produce little Bennys for about 6 weeks after C-Day but lets face it, he has no idea what the hell he’s doing; he’ll mount anyone or anything. But today I took him in the car to the vets, which he used to enjoy, the vets not the car, but I suspect no more. There was an air of suspicion about him as he waited to be taken out back to meet his fate.
8 hours later I picked him up, he’s got a little onesie to wear which stops him from licking his bits and as a back up the cone of shame. God he’s pissed off, he’s drowsy and he’s off walking for about 10 days, even 2 weeks. Wees and Poos and AOB must be taken outside in the garden (Flower Zoos) on a lead with his costume rolled up, he’s none to pleased about that either. And thus far he’s refused to do anything on the lead, instead preferring to grumble whilst lying down on the sofa bed in my office. Poor guy, look how sad he looks. Problem is when I roll his costume up, like having a piss in a boiler suit it’s an ordeal, he just tries to lick his wounds, so we tried the Cone of Shame, and he found himself surrounded by shadow folk and the light sprites, not a good place to be, and within seconds he was bucking like Buckaroo and banging into the fence like Mr Bump. So I guess it’s watch this space and Misty and Hattie better be ready for a right royal rumble when he gets out of this predicament. All he wants to do is run and I hope he hasn’t lost trust for me, I suspect my son’s bond with Benny will strengthen when he’s back from the school sleep over tomorrow.