27/4/2018 0 Comments Beating DiabetesOver his last two years, George had some worrying conditions and the vet sent him up to the Royal Veterinary College in London. George was an angel...as always.
Dear Auntie Hannah S’all very well saying nice things to my Mum and saying I’m lucky to have her! That may be so, but only to a certain point! I am the one who never moans, groans, growls, snaps or nips, no matter where her finger goes or whatever else she soaks, rubs, snips, clips, shaves, oils or dusts. And I am the one who gets trounced out of my relaxed, sleepy little bed to be transported to ‘up London’ where I get lots of students staring and poking me and making all sorts of comments about me...talking as though I can’t hear! But, most of all, aren’t I the one who allowed herself to change my diet from puppy to big boy? Did I complain when she said I should have 3 meals (8.00 am, 1.00 pm and 6.00 pm) instead of 2 per day, (8.00 and 5.00) (plus my bedtime biscuit at 10.00 pm)? (These details are relevant.) Did I moan when she started giving me fresh chicken and cod fillets? No, I didn’t. Dogfully, I ate everything and would have eaten even more had she wanted me to, just to help. I have been SOOO cooperative and done my best to please her. So, imagine my horror when I heard what the new vet told her to do, just because I have something called diabetes. When we were there, I heard the vet saying “It is essential that he only has 2 meals per day. 12 hours apart.” ‘Nah, she wouldn’t.’ I said to myself. ‘She knows me and my tummy very well and she knows I couldn’t cope. She wouldn’t!’ S-H-E H-A-S!!!! Can you believe it? Breakfast at 8.00 am and then NOTHING until 8.00 pm I have tried every trick in my arsenal – cute, very cute, sulking, frantic searching for crumbs. I even go into the kitchen and lick the floor where the bowl should be, but to no avail. She is HARD! Even soppy old Auntie Alex won’t give me anything and I believe that the message has gone around all my friends, so no luck there. Grr! I don’t even get my bedtime biscuit – a tradition since I was a puppy. This is so difficult to deal with, especially after everything else I have been through. And the irony is that Mum has diabetes too and she has been told she must eat every 3 hours – now that sounds more like my sort of diet!! So think of me too before you say nice things about her. Now, you go and have a big dinner and think of me!!! Love Your emaciated George JP June 2010
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AuthorElderly Cornish woman of substance. Archives
April 2018
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