I am returned to myself once more. The relief is exquisite.
I must apologise for my inarticulate last entry - I was off my whiskers on drugs and in considerable misery. I really was in the most extreme pain. I wept without cease for three days after my surgery, but began to recover on Sunday and now I am feeling better than I ever did. My stitches are due to be removed tomorrow, and I am extremely happy to report that my shaven patches are beginning to regrow. Thank heavens - this is no time of year to have half of one's body shaved bare.
Perhaps the most humiliating part of this whole affair was that the veterinary nurses used a lemon-scented soap mixture to cleanse my torn and bloody post-operative body. The vet took the opportunity of my being rendered senseless to clean out my ears with the lemon-wash as well. This annoyed me intensely - I had been collecting some of that earwax. I stank of lemon-freshness for ages after my surgery. Disgusting. Happily, I was able to make a partial return to my exercise régime after a few days and availed myself of the first opportunity to banish the citrus-whiff with a hearty roll in a delightful cocktail of exotic fecal materials in the park.
Naturally, I have maximised the appearance of my scar. It looks fairly hideous (hence no picture of it here; I do not wish to upset the more delicate reader), so I have taken care to favour that side of my body when approaching people in the park. Successfully too, I'm happy to say. An outpouring of sympathy and quality snack items from random strangers have proved to be the cream on top of the milking of my situation.
But I do not wish to trivialise this episode; I was actually very poorly indeed and am blessed in my recovery. I must say thank you again to those wonderful friends who left comments of support and good wishes on my blog and through private emails. It is impossible to overstate how much we appreciate these. I must bark an apology for not replying to them individually and hope they can forgive me; life is hectic at present for a number of reasons, of which major surgery is only one.
I must send a particular bark-out to Bailey - good to hear from you, me ol' mucker. I can't find an email address for you, otherwise I'd have lifted a leg and sent you a weemail before now. For, dear reader, Bailey and his partner achieved the most flattering mention of me on BBC Radio Oxford this morning. Apparently, some interloper was claiming to have started the world's first Dog's Blog in Abingdon.
I think not.
Bailey (a handsome Staffordshire) and his partner sprung into righteous action and contacted the show, resulting in a plug for yours truly from a suitably penitent presenter. Thank you Bailey!! In fact, I have connections to this area - my partner adopted me from a shelter for beleaguered canines in Stokenchurch, which isn't too far from the Oxford area. I was very touched that someone took the trouble to fight misrepresentation on the wireless service on my behalf. When I have made my first millions, a golden bone will be on it's way to Bailey...
I note the interesting events of yesterday from our friends across the Atlantic. I do sincerely wish Mr. Obama well and hope that he is able to live up to the things expected of him. One thing can be barked in safety, however: he cannot be any worse than GW Bush. Not that that is much of a challenge - a lobotomised parsnip would do a better job than Dubya. But what do I know? I am no political animal. A wicked little part of me will miss his gaffes - though I have to say that they would have been more funny had they not come from the mouth (and mind) of one of the most powerful men in the world. My favourite one is "I believe human beings and fish can co-exist peacefully." Dear, oh dear.
Dear blog, I have much to report. I feel as though I have been away from you for a lifetime. The most significant item of news is that my partner and I could shortly be writing this blog from our very own new house! Oh yes. This is still a developing issue, so more news will follow shortly. Suffice it to say that my partner and I have already clashed over the colour scheme for our décor.
Now that I am recovering my former strength, I can get on with all the things that I have been formulating to share with you. Including, but not limited to, my review of 2008, the interactive game "Where is Jasper?" and (I'm highly sceptical of this one) "Ewan's World of Cheese".
My partner's mother has started wearing a tartan bobble hat when out and about and, this morning, described an oven as being "cr*pped out". Should we be worried? I think yes.
Did you hear that Pedigree Chum has gone into liquidation? They have called in the Retrievers. Sorry reader, just a little credit-crunch humour there. Aren't you GLAD that Jasper is back? Oh yes.