Wednesday, 24 August 2011

The V-e-t

The bunnies were due to have their Myxi booster so I decided to take Scruff along with me as he is appalling at the vet and it's soooo embarrassing when they have to say "Ok hmm, we'll just take him round the back and put a muzzle on him...then perhaps we can do the routine ear check". When we parked outside the surgery he bounded along enthusiastically until we got in through the door, when he had an oh no moment. The girls and I sat in the waiting room and Scruff stood, trembling, with his nose pressed up against the door, putting horrible sticky nose marks all over the glass. Then the wimpering started. I told him he was going to watch the rabbits have an injection but he wasn't listening. In attempting to jump on my lap he upturned the display of leaflets and then started knitting with his lead around chair legs. The door opened and the vet called us in; Scruff looked out in abject terror from under a seat. I dragged him out - luckily his paws were all sweaty so he slid along quite effectively - and in we went.

The bunnies were ok but the vet was obviously not that used to small animals (or indeed any animals - he looked at 17) so there was a lot of scrabbling around. Meanwhile Scruff stood staring at the paper thin gap between the door and the frame, willing himself through it. He was motionless, apart from the trembling, until the vet said 'Right!' in an authoritative manner, at which point the wimpering and scratching at the door started in earnest. I had wanted to get him on the scales but they were nearer the vet than the door so I decided that wasn't going to happen and the poor dog had suffered enough trauma. The door once again opened and Scruff tore out with Rosie on the end of the lead. The front door of the vet's was also open, so I came out to see Rose standing about 30 feet away in the precinct with Scruff looking back, ears pricked. We brought him back in so I could pay, and he stood with his gaze locked on the consulting room door. I bought him a chewy treat which he bit in half and swallowed, clearly desperate to get the heck out of there before we remembered that he'd not actually had anything done to him. His look was definitely one of "can't believe I got away with that..."

Not a great success.

There were lots of elderberries when I walked through the woods so I took the girls and some colanders up to collect some balackberries and elderberries, to make some cordial.

Gotta be done
We managed to collect quite a few:

which I put on to simmer this morning:

I'm following a recipe from Eat Weeds so I'll let you know how it goes!

I'm in the middle of crocheting a sunflower again as it went a bit wrong and carrying on with the granny squares. Mary has about a week to go on her eggs and the other livestock are well and happy, the ducks especially so with the rain.

1 comment:

  1. Poor Scrufter. Henry shakes so much at the vets that they suggest psychotherapy for him! Fortunately the fear makes him freeze in terror, so they can do pretty much whatever they want to him. Honey, on the other hand, comes out fighting; the warning they've got about her on her patient screen is a little harsh I feel - she never ACTUALLY bit anyone ...