More From My Collection

... of terrible photos.

Someone told that humans get red-eye in photos because the light from the flash reflects off the blood vessels in the back of the human retina. So what do dogs have in the back of their eyes, to get this green glow?

The dogs have been enjoying the warm weather; it's the first time this year that I've been able to leave the back door open all day, and they can potter in and out. Unfortunately Holly has discovered a bird's nest in the golden privet, and barks every time she can hear rustling. I've told her a hundred times "It's a bird, not a c-a-t." However she keeps on barking, up the wrong tree, and I have to go and haul her in and shut the door before the neighbours complain. If she spends the entire summer barking at this tree... I'm going to be keeping her in.

Herbie is plodding along. His nodes were shrinking the tiniest bit, but then I gave him some Metacam because I was wondering if he didn't look rather stiff - now they're back where they were. He seems a little stiff in the mornings now, but it wears off once he's walked a hundred yards, so it may be arthritis rather than cancer-related. He's been on so many other supplements I'd given up on the glucosamine. Back to the drawing board.

We may be offline for a little while, with the builder coming next week, and my only phone point is right next to where he'll be demolishing the old fireplace. I'm moving everything I can upstairs, including the computer, but we'll be back as soon as we can.

Happy Birthday to Meee!

Herbie was nine on Thursday. If I'd known he'd reach this age, there'd have been fewer tears along the way - when he was seven, I thought it was his last year ever. Here he is, peeing on a branch brought down by the snow in January. I didn't saw it off then, and now I don't have the heart, it's his very most-favourite pee spot.

The trouble is, I only have a cheap digital camera and there's a long delay (1.6 seconds according to the manual) between my clicking the shutter, and the camera actually registering the picture. Greyhounds move fast when they want to, so however carefully I set up that perfect image of the hounds, most of my photos end up looking like this:

That's why I don't post pictures all that often. I have so many pictures either of their rear ends, or sleeping, that I'm bored. I don't have the patience to wait for days for that one perfect shot. I don't have Angela's talent for photography, that's for sure.

A Grey Easter

Cloud, then rain, then cloud. I have been trying to spring clean, but Holly thinks this is very boring, and will only let me do boring things for half an hour at a time. Then she barks and runs around, until I take her out in the garden to play.

Herbie no longer wants to walk as far, so Holly isn't getting as much exercise as a young girl needs. If I take her without Herbie, she tries to herd me back towards the house, and lets me know plainly that I've forgotten something very important, i.e. Herbie. Mad moments running round and round the clothes airer are about all we can do without taking/tiring the old lad. He stands on the back doorstep, shaking his head, before plodding back upstairs to bed. He has to have morning and evening walkies, but no more than half an hour these days.

He's still swallowing his CV247, but he seems static. It's better than some of the alternatives. In a couple of weeks' time, a builder's coming to open up the fireplace to install a wood-burning stove, and I'm worried it'll affect him. It's been hard even keeping him stable, but I've waited four months for this stove to arrive. We may have to spend a few days in the car, parked somewhere with rabbits to watch, while the builder builds, or unbuilds. Some weeks, I think I've done nothing, but keeping things on an even keel is not nothing. I keep telling myself.

Almost Famous

I was pleased and surprised to find Herbie inside this month's copy of Dogs Today. I'd emailed the editor to ask about CV 247, and subsequently sent an update on his progress, which appeared on the blog for pets trying CV247, but I wasn't expecting to see Herbie in print. I showed it to him, but he didn't seem too impressed. I think he wanted a photo of himself in his younger days, before his face went white.

There are still no miracle cures, but given that I wasn't sure he'd last long enough for the postman to deliver the first bottle, he's doing OK. He's stopped going downhill at least.

He's currently nursing a sore ear, after trying to sniff a cat's bottom. The neighbour's ginger tom didn't want his bottom sniffing, and swiped across the top of Herbie's head. Blood everywhere, and I think it's a vet trip for antibiotics tomorrow. At the time, I was mostly pleased that Holly hadn't despatched the cat, and hadn't realised Herbie was hurt, but later I found the trail of blood up the stairs, and realised Herbie had taken a direct hit. That cat has zero nerves. I do a cat-scan every time I open the back door, to make sure the garden is cat-free. This one decided to jump over the garden wall and stroll across a lawn with two greyhounds on it. I am trying to make sure the neighbourhood cats survive, but they're not making life easy for me.