I had what My Susan called a milkspot on my lip and got infected. They said I had an Elvis lip, ah-ha-ha-ha and wasn't getting any better. Just a day later I was booked to see the VET. Being small, My Humans were more concerned about infection spreading than my looks.
Off we went. I made sure I pooed and had a wee right outside the entrance this time. My Windy was bag at the ready but muttered something whilst doing...something about my timing.
Yes My Susan was at work again, My Windy was my companion. He was as brave as me.
I'd played too rough at tug-o-war and agrivated a sore which became infected. Prick, pang, an injection of antibiotic and a course of 8 tablets.
Let the tablet tango begin. First two tablets went down eventually with a chew, next two had to be hidden inside a mashed up chew. Next came with the remains of beef dinner. 6th became a chore, the beef from the day before didn't work and neither did a chew.
Hmmmm my human brains we're smoking. Eureka, get the butter out, just like children with jam on a spoon, I had a butter covered tablet, finishing the course with the same ploy. I don't mind. No fat lip and no Elvis impersonating.
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