Those who pay the Piper are made to follow his tune

It really is amazing how quickly the world, at least in one’s personal sphere, can be turned upside down and inside out. Less than two weeks ago Piper came to visit us and, different facets of his character seem to appear almost daily. Compared to his physical stature, 15 kilograms of energy – his personality is absolutely enormous, lets imagine it in weight – 1500 kg as a minimum!

It seems quite strange, to me at least, that a creature always so eager to please can at times prove even more stubborn than the proverbial mule! Piper knows his own mind, and, he’ll always jump at the least opportunity to turn our will into a mirror of his own desire. He has eyes that could melt the hardest of hearts and a mischievousness that entertains substantially more than it irritates. By now you may have guessed that I love him.

Alongside the love, there is a modicum of anxiety at the way he frets when my OH goes out of the house and, I start to wonder how he’ll react when she goes away for a couple of days. At least his little whine at the door as she departs, sans Piper of course, now dissipates rather quickly as he manages to attract my full attention. The settling down period also involves his desire to run upstairs, bound up on the bed and placing paws on the headboard as he looks out of the window for any sign of his mistresses person. The next step often involves placing his paws on my knees whilst I tickle and stroke him under his chin and the top of his chest.  Of course, he’s always on the lookout for treats having the appetite of a Desperate Dan (with his cow pies) and, proffers a downhearted look of dismay if a food treat is not forthcoming.

At present, I have a cast-iron resolve not to yield to his (innocent) greed; but he still loves me, I think. His bouts of apparently boundless energy are balanced with more than an equivalent amount of relaxation and sleep; admittedly I have little record of what occurs when his master and mistress are upstairs asleep. He quickly started to recognize my nocturnal routine, as I put on the outside light whilst he bounds, or slowly meanders, following a multitude of scents, around the garden.

My beloved, Helen, invariably heads off to the land of nod a little while before me, but once I start to switch off TV or radio and the aquarium light, he settles himself on the sofa, having first made a little nest out its sundry throws, but is sometimes distracted as he grabs and growlingly shakes a soft toy. Even then, as I move towards the door of the sitting room he casts a doleful glance my way before I switch off the light and wish him “good night”.

As well as the sofa, which he often shares with ma belle during the day, he occasionally has a penchant for my armchair, and thereby hangs a tale / tail! On Monday my beloved went out for an early evening meal, with her friend Hilary, at a time shortly before Piper’s feed time. As my beloved went out Piper seemed quite sleepily settled on their shared sofa. At that point I went through to the kitchen to prepare his evening feed, knowing he would dash through as soon as the food sounded into the bowl.

As he entered the kitchen he appeared to have a shamed look on his face, tail curled beneath him. This seemed most unusual as he’s usually so eager to ‘wolf’ down his food. Now I have to explain that I have a table beside my armchair, on which I keep and use, my laptop; on this table my beloved had left some buttered bread and a package containing Shropshire Blue cheese. As I moved back to the armchair I began to understand Piper’s signs of guilt, when I saw the cheese, now partially unwrapped, on the seat cushion of the armchair, the dairy product itself displayed some give-away canine (no, not human canine teeth) toothmarks. In a matter of a minute, the drowsy canine had moved across the room from sofa to armchair and found the proximity of,  cheese bearing, computer table to his olfactory organ overwhelming!

The day that the boy arrived, chez nous, Beth brought him (amongst other delights) a synthetic chewing bone with a tasty filling. During the following days it has been buried in gravel adjacent to the house, in previously compressed ground near to the summerhouse  and, in ground behind the large shed, In that bone he’d met his match; long lasting chews or Bonio biscuits are devoured almost as swiftly as they’re presented to him, but that bone really took a gnawing between the intermittent relocations.

Today, when Helen went out to the local shops, Piper came through to join me in the front room, before jumping on the sofa in the sitting room. Next thing, I noticed him bouncing upstairs, quite obviously to his lookout point to check on his mistresses whereabouts! When I heard a burst of growling woofs, emanating from the bedroom, I went upstairs to check on what was going on.

Piper was on the bed with his nose, snuffling away, underneath my pillow. Having told the boy to calm down, I lifted the pillow only to find the soil laden bone, and a generous selection of paw spread soil paintings on the undersheet.

 No doubt about it, a complete change of bed-linen was called for and the “buried treasure” has found its way into a waste disposal bin. There’s maybe more I could tell you but I’m beginning to tire; so I bid my readers a fond adieu.

of enjoyment, endeavours and frustrating limitations

I’m just so grateful that I became more alert as Tuesday afternoon progressed. By early evening I really felt on good form as Beth, Helen and myself enjoyed a meal at Brios to celebrate Beth’s birthday. I do feel really blessed with such an adorable wife and wonderful step-daughters, they have made my life so much richer.

Although it took quite a while to settle down to sleep, after dining out, I didn’t have too bad a night’s rest albeit with the far too familiar intermittent bouts of sleep! Wednesday morning, I ventured out into the garden by 11.00am to perform a few minor chores, the primary one being to split up a clump of globe thistles (echinops ritro) which had rather outgrown their particular situation. I potted up a small clump, to set aside for a friend who had expressed an interest in them. No sooner had that task been performed than Cathy arrived to visit us, and join us for lunch, just before she was due to head off back to her work in Switzerland. I must admit I was grateful for the break.

Late afternoon found ma belle et moi back out in the garden. This time I transplanted some of the thistles, elsewhere in the garden, before shovelling out some of the wonderful humus from the bottom of our compost bin. The latter task proved quite exhausting and, it wasn’t too long before I found myself achingly on the verge of collapse. I thought it wise to listen to my body! My beloved supervised me as I took a shower before settling down to a very lazy evening. Even though I felt exhaustedly tired when I retired au lit, at about 10.00pm, an extremely restless night followed. Intermittent sleep took over from around 4.00am and I finally emerged into a beautiful new day at around 11.00am. It seems that, these days, regardless of my levels of activity / inactivity, my bed rest requirement is generally between 11 and 13 hours.

Earlier attempts to write this blog were thwarted by a nausea inducing discomfort emanating from the armpits. It’s really hard to describe this sensation, which forces me to clamp my arms tightly to my side or stretch them behind my back but, it totally disrupts any attempt to concentrate on reading or web-surfing. I’ve discovered that this type of discomfort can, occasionally, be moderately alleviated by applying my arms to a more directly physical activity but that’s entirely dependent on my having a sufficient reserve of stamina.

An Unexpected Turn

 

Sometimes events take a turn far removed from the familiar; today was such a case. This morning I managed to get myself down to ‘Open Church’, for the first time since my pre-Christmas collapse there. Wrapped up in a warm overcoat and armed with an umbrella I boldly strode my way and, once there enjoyed some really stimulating conversation.

On my way back home I called in at the bakers to collect the wholemeal loaf so, there I was, open umbrella held in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, heading for home when my mobile begins to ring. To be honest, this was one of very few occasions that I’d bothered to switch it on; I’ve never understood the necessity of holding telephonic conversations whilst ambling down the road. It was quite a juggling act to transfer the instrument from coat pocket to the proximity of my ear, encumbered as I was.

The voice at the other end, my elder step-daughter Beth, tells me that she doesn’t want to worry me but my beloved has been rushed to hospital. She’d apparently been taken ill whilst at the dentists. I knew that she was going to try to make an appointment, having been woken in the night with really painful toothache from an area where she’d lost a filling about a week ago. Although quite wiped out, energy-wise, she’d travelled over to her work in Wetherby, early this morning, where I subsequently discovered, she’d already begun to feel sick before arranging the appointment with her dentist back in Harrogate. The dentist had taken an x-Ray, and informed her that she would need a course of antibiotics to tackle an abscess, before she came over really ill.

Beth picked me up and ran me to the hospital where I found an atypically flush faced and cold-handed Helen. Her blood pressure had sky rocketed, once again very unusual for ma belle who traditionally has a remarkably (but healthily) low BP. Fortunately the ECG results showed no cause for concern and sundry blood samples were taken before she was sent for an X-Ray of the jaw. Whilst I waited with ma belle, Beth, with assistance from Cathy’s partner Ken, was able to get into town to collect her Mum’s car and deliver it back home for us. As a non-driver, I was of little use in these circumstances. Helen subsequently saw a consultant in the Maxillo Facial Surgery who made a few incisions and prescribed two lots of antibiotics.  

On several occasions, in the past couple of years, ma belle has had to come and hold my hand in A&E; today the tables were turned. I so frequently worry about the burden my ill health imposes upon my beloved, realizing how mutually dependent we are; today my concern was how helpless I may be if the burden of care shifted the other way. It was so fortuitous that Beth happened to have some holiday days this week and so, was available to perform such a valuable chauffeuring and messaging duties.

Once again I must express my gratitude to the NHS, especially the staff in A&E at Harrogate District Hospital. I only wish that the Health Service was in safer hands than those of the Tory ConDem coalition.