An Island Off an Island

Hi there – its Ruby again.

I think I’ve gone too far. As per my last blog, I’ve always thought that my behaviour pattern of alternative bouts of naughtiness (Auntie A would call it ‘ridiculousness’) followed by uncharacteristic periods of quietness, would keep M&D guessing as to my well-being. And this in turn would allow an absence of consequences. Not so.

I forgot to mention last time a couple of incidents to add to the catalogue of mischievous conduct. The first involved a one kilo bag of lawn seed that I managed to access. Not only did I scatter most of the contents to the four winds, but I was also able to eat a fair bit of it too. Too much like dried Weet-bix and another spell on the lounge with a very bloated stomach. Next was a stray handkerchief (hardly worth mentioning) and a very long pyjama cord. Boy, did that take some expelling! The last episode resulted in an unfortunate burn to mouth and tongue in the pursuit of molten-hot chocolate chip cookies straight out of the oven. Dad only turned his back for a second but I am deceptively quick when I need to be.

So, back to consequences.

The untoward experience of the suspected bite/sting of a couple of weeks ago happened again. My response was much the same as before – jumping up from my position of repose on the lounge, and burying myself under the table with lots of licking of lips. M&D are now thinking it might be tooth-ache and a resultant visit to the veterinary clinic is required. I didn’t see this as a positive outcome for me (I seem to remember from a previous visit that it involved a thermometer and a very intimate body part). So I instituted the ‘quiet period’ approach and added the extra touch of having to be assisted up on to the lounge. That was my rookie mistake – I had laid it on too thick. M&D were too concerned and an appointment was made.

I think vets in general provide a good and necessary service, but show me one that has any empathy for a Labrador’s raison d étre (outside of gun sports) and that is food. After weighing in at 40.5kgs she has put me on a strict diet. How can that be? My beautiful body shape has been called into question. I do have a social media presence and I can tell you that “body shaming” does not get good press, and those who engage in it are morally corrupt. That vet should expect some further action from my ombudsman (The RSPCA) when I complain long and loud to them.

Unfortunately, M&D seem to agree with the vet this time and they are the food providers in this family. I just don’t want to hear “But Ruby, its for your own good. I guess I’ll just have to be on the lookout for more wallaby poo, starfish and food items left unattended to supplement my starvation rations.