Bag boy...

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Words from a Bird.  Day 76

So the Brawl on the Lawn seems to be subsiding just a little.  The odd growl here and there, and the occasional 'Bite my balls one more time and you're cat food' glance from Percy seem to be doing the trick.  Reg decided to scare the life out of me today while playing in the (heavily weeded) border in the back garden.  Having spent 10 minutes limping around the garden in the style of Robert 'Long John Silver' Newton, my wonderful friend, Mrs P, suggested a visit to the vet to make sure that he was ok.

In the words of daughter number 2 and son number 2, when baking cakes with the husband one time, 'How hard could it be?'

Very hard, it would appear.  I have no dog carrier for Reg, so was left with a couple of options.  Either I carry him on my lap in the car all the way there and back or I stick him in a hessian shopper with 'I Love Wine' emblazoned across both sides. (This was so obviously borrowed from my mother). As safety is my middle name (the offspring will vouch for this) I opted for the shopper.  I padded it out with a couple of blankets, dropped Reg in, and put him in the foot well of the passenger seat. 

It was all going rather well for about three minutes.  His little whiskered face peeping out through the reinforced handles was a sight to behold.

However, a rather sudden emergency stop put pay to all that cuteness.  The shopper tipped over, spilling Reg into the foot well.  He then had the normal reaction to a nasty shock and peed prolifically .....and puddle paddled all the way there, making sure that he left paw prints all over my car's lovely leather. 

So picture the scene if you will on my arrival at the vets.  Not only did Reg smell of wee, but as I had to carry him into the surgery in my arms, I also had a whiff of old lady about me. Reg was also sporting a Mohican hairdo, where I had tried to dry him off in the car. This and the aroma gave him the appearance of a rather nasty toilet brush.  The vet was not over impressed, but after a full body check (with gloves on) he diagnosed a bee sting on Reg's back leg.

Clever Reg knowing that you have to wee on a bee sting.

He gets it from me, you know...

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