My glorious pals, drag your bean bags a little closer around my rocking chair and prepare to listen to a tale that circumnavigates all of the emotions known to hound. I must warn you, the tale will feature great peril (mine) an unexpected leg shave (again, mine) and a certain amount of gnashing of teeth (not mine, obviously) when the loons received the financial implications of the days activities.   

We exited Spindle Towers to unexpected sunshine. I was admiring the way my whiskers glistened in the reflection of the car window when I was very rudely interrupted with a gentle knee prod up my behind quarters which initiated my graceful leap into the car. Nevertheless, there was gladness in my heart at what the day would bring – hopefully sausages. 

I had made a brief complaint to the management earlier as they neglected to serve my breakfast before we sallied forth into downtown Hampshire. They just exchanged a furtive glance and dismissed this with a wave of their gnarled and wizened hands as an oversight which would be rectified shortly. Again, hopefully sausages.

I hadn’t been paying much attention en route to our destination, as I was all caught up in a Georgette Heyer paperback, but I glanced up to see we were at THE VETS. 

I very calmly but pointedly saved my place and closed the book, folding my arms and issuing my best reproachful stare. This did not seem to change things so I muttered a very bad word that I had heard on the television box and steadied myself in the emergency brace position, clinging on to the hand rails like a barnacle clinging to a rock. This also didn’t work and I was prised out of the car – and still no sign of sausages.

I won’t recount the next scene as I wish to forget it, but next thing I knew I was in a room…having a patch of my leg shaved. The absolute audacity! I am a huge believer that if a hound has a hirsute limb, then she has the right to rock that limb in all its hairiness. Now I look like I am afflicted with mange.

It was then explained to me that I was going to have a little dental spruce up, maybe a tooth out if necessary. No sausage as yet then for Spindles. It would be, I was assured, like a visit to a spa. Well the last time I was at a spa there was an unfortunate incident with heated stones and a length of bendy hosing, so this did not allay any fears. With no other option I bravely submitted myself to the nurse I had ‘River Danced’ over at my last pedicure appointment. 

*Wibbly time passes as Spindles consciousness gives way to the drugs that are being introduced via the bald leg patch. In this dreamworld, she is now surrounded by other worldly visions of an Edwardian ball, where plumptious sausages are dancing with squirrels around the ballroom of the Velvet Marmoset club.

Some time later my little eyes fluttered open to find I was curled up in an unfamiliar nest in a hazy, dribbling heap. I was reassured to see that my best piggy pig was with me for comfort so I rested my head on her bedraggled and well chewed snout and let the medication reclaim me into their glorious arms.

After a restorative nap I felt a little more like myself, so I popped to the facilities to powder my nose and readjust my crinoline. This was when I discovered to my horror that someone had stolen half my teeth. I opened my mouth to see just a few scattered about…not dissimilar to the Needles off the Isle of Wight. 

I was going to have to write a strongly worded letter of complaint about this.

Some time later I had washed and tidied myself up, and piggy pig and I were waiting in the lounge area when the pair of turncoats, that is, the loons turned up to collect me. They seemed really rather overwhelmed to see me and wouldn’t stop hugging me. I had the right hump with them so I turned my back on them and pointedly drooled on the floor instead, deciding to ‘accidentally’ widdle in their shoes later.

The only gratifying part of the day was seeing the colour drain from their faces when they realised how many teeth had to be removed (22) which set off another wave of tears and cuddles (theirs) and then the colour left their bodies entirely when they were presented with the bill. I hoped it wasn’t going to affect my custard cream and gin fund as I had just placed a rather hefty order at Fortnums. 

Sadly It turned out that for the moment, happily crunching a custardy raft of love was going to be put on hold and I was presented with a plate of mush. I must say that I was a little sore and swollen around the chops so I didn’t mind that much, but it didn’t stop me grumbling and grousing about it to the loons. In all fairness to them, they had not enjoyed the day either and I kept being showered with kisses until I insisted they stop. It was then, my great pals, that I was introduced to the heady delights of Primula, squeezy cheese. The elixir of gummy hounds. However – still no sausages.

Later that evening I was settled on the bed with Muvver, who spent most of the evening reading me my favourite pirate stories (doing all the voices properly) and then crooning Puff the Magic Dragon whilst she held my paw. She cuddled me for a long time and a little tear from her beady eye plopped onto the duvet, landing next to my pool of dribble. This felt strangely poignant so we snuggled down together and fell asleep hand in paw. 

Until next time dear pals, do take care, and I shall leave you with these few words..

The buggers took my teeth out

On a bright and sunny morn

Never have I been so gummy

Since the day that I was born