I've been poorly-bad for the past few weeks.
Backwards and forwards to the cowin' vets for tests and various internal proverbials to try to find out why I've been in a lot of pain and why I've gone right off me food.
Of course, the two things are connected (I could have told them that) and it's been confirmed that I've got arthritis in my spine and then, when I went under the knife last Wednesday, they found and removed a tumour from my liver.
So here I am back home on Thursday and, to be honest, I'm still feeling dead-rough.
I just wanna be left alone really but, the trouble is, the kitchen is not the quietest place around here.
There's the dishwasher, and the washing machine, and all their general disturbance, and then, to top it all, the big fella likes to listen to his 'music' all day long.
At least I'm near my water bowl and food supply. Although I've not got much of an appetite at the mo'.
By Friday I'd had enough of the cowin' kitchen, so I gathered all my strength and made the walk down to the living room for some peace and quiet. It's much better in here. I'm much happier being left alone to be honest and just to confirm the fact I've been able to walk back up to the kitchen for my first post-op proverbial. That was a relief, I can tell you.
It's Saturday lunchtime and I'm feeling better, if only slightly.
The peace and quiet of the living room is just the job and the room service catering is absolutely first class. Mind you, it's still early days yet, so let's not get ahead of ourselves. The Vet says it will be two to three weeks before I'm anything like back to normal (whatever that is).
just to illustrate what a brave little fella I've been.
Good, eh?
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