Staying in Post-Op Recovery with my Dog

I keep my young Rottweiler company during her 6 week x 2 period in isolation. Vet’s orders.

Moth

Halleluja! I’m in the Land of Canine and I can’t get out. The once porous borders are no longer so. Now even shopping is a problem. No one told us that. Still, what did I expect? I voted for it. I should have known what it would mean.

I mean having two dogs, of course. Nothing else. Just because my first name is Nigel, don’t hold it against me.

I’m here incarcerated in the front room with Moth, overseeing post op recovery of operation number one. You can catch me here most days — morning, noon and night. Pass by the window and I may even wave to you, like the bloody Lady of Shalott. I even have a mirror here that may still yet crack from side to side — from my fist.

While I’m Moth-sitting, Laura is in the other half of the house looking after Milo. And neither twain shall meet. Vet’s orders. Trouble with people giving orders is that they don’t have to worry about the implementation. Order given and received. Go home for weekend — keep phone off the hook (a rather quaint, outdated expression- but that’s me). Milo is becoming more Milo than ever. He’s a Battersea Boy: a rescue dog with a missing back leg. He doesn’t like disruption of his routine but…