Feeling Dog Rough

This morning's first significant activity was a trip to the Vets with Tyson. Marauder also came along as she has worked out that if she looks cute enough she can blag a couple of dog treats from the Vet while T suffers the indignity of having a thermometer shoved up her backside.

The reason for this trip was that T is suffering from an upset stomach and, after 18 hours of vomiting and worse she most definitely needed medical intervention. The diagnosis was an infection rather than an obstruction and an anti-inflammatory injection and a course of antibiotics were prescribed. The Vet advised that she should be restricted to small portions of bland food and that we should see an improvement by the evening.

Having dealt with that Medical Emergency the rest of the day was reasonably quiet. Today was the day that the eggs under the Broody were due to hatch and, at the encouragement of Village Idiot*, I took a quick peep in the coop this evening. I was reluctant to disturb the hen so gently slid my hand underneath her. I had barely lifted her feathers when I heard cheeping and felt fragments of egg shell. I left it at that safe, in the knowledge that we have  at least one chick.

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* He turned up this evening with a fist full of stolen Rhubarb, regaled us with tales of his failing health and gratefully munched his way through the leftovers from our supper**.
** Salmon Fishcakes and  chips