Not Yet Autumn

... even though it feels like it. To add to the autumnal feel, I have been reading animal ghost stories at Project Gutenberg.

Not that I'm particularly haunted. The only things in this house that go bump in the night are greyhounds. (The Cornishman's prayer goes: "From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties, and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord deliver us.")

Herbie's already playing with Christmas Teddy. (Mainly because Easter Chickie is still in the car.)

Another Monthiversary

... on the 16th, and Herbie is now 9 and a third. Still plodding along and looking under his bowl in case I may have hidden more food there.

I've just finished another one of my birthday books, "Wesley", about a barn owl of that name, whose human now blogs here. I know what everyone's getting for Christmas! It's like Marley and me, except with a badly-behaved owl instead of a lab. I laughed out loud when Stacey O'Brien described running down the hallway shouting "Not for owls!" whenever Wesley was poking his beak in where he shouldn't - it's pretty much what I say to Holly and Herbie: "Not for nogs!"

And funnily enough, they know what I mean.

What Would Buffy Do?

I asked Holly that very question, and she said "Kick the fridge door open with one mighty blow, and devour the entire contents". Hmm, what about the slaying? "Oh, yeah, right, the slaying... there's some fish pie in that fridge, you know."

Herbie's more of a Xander - if there's trouble, it's best to head the other way. As you may be able to tell, I was given a copy of "What Would Buffy Do?" last week for my birthday, froma dear friend who knows I'm a big fan. It was also the week of Herbie's fifth "Gotcha" day - dog birthdays aren't always a known date, particularly with rescue dogs, but you can always celebrate the date you got your dog. It's odd, Herbie's been sick for two years and four months, almost as long as the time he's not been sick. Two years and eight months of healthy life with me - even if the first few months were spent putting weight on him, and hoping his fur would grow back (it did!)

And while on a film/TV related title, I received a surprise comment from the Real Lumpy Addams - now indeed all grown up!

Hard to Know

... if Herbie's in any pain or not. He seems older and stiffer than he was last summer, and he doesn't particularly like having his lumps pressed. He doesn't flinch, he just gives you a look that says "Do you have to?" I've talked to the vet about this, because she says pain is inevitable at some point, but if he doesn't seem too subdued, and isn't flinching when you touch him, he might be OK. It's the "might" part of the sentence that worries me.

Equally, long-term use of painkillers can have side-effects, so giving drugs unnecessarily ain't good either. He's on glucosamine for the stiffness. He ran a few races in his day, and he's just come back from pinging up and down on the lead trying to get at Billy Blue, the opposite neighbour's cat. It's like a Wii Fit for greyhounds - show them a fleeting image of a cat, and they're jumping up and down. My arms are growing longer by the day. I'm sure if you took measurements of people's arms BG and AG (Before Greyhounds and After Greyhounds) there'd be an inch or two difference.