My husband tells me that one day my vet will write his memoirs and I will feature heavily in them.
I’m the owner who asked the vet to examine a tumour on the bottom of my little poodle. All I’ll say is I know why they are called poo-dles and the tumour didn’t need to be biopsies 💩😳
I’m also the client who got her vet to meet me at the surgery for an emergency appointment for a cat with a blocked bladder who couldn’t pass urine. One looked at the vet and the cat flooded the surgery 🌊
Then there were the visits with Finn the Newfoundland because
“He got the lid of a tin of quality Street and ate them all……papers and all!”
“He opened the fridge door and ate two dozen chocolate brownies”
“He opened the oven door and ate a dozen mince pies that were cooling down”
Or “He got the dogs’ medicine box and ate all Henry’s ( our boxer) beef flavoured heart tablets”
The vet told me not to worry too much about that one…… “They’re vasodilators…….like Viagra…….just don’t bend over in front of him for the next few days”
But not incidents were my fault. What about the time I took the two guinea pigs for a check up? The young vet listened to the heart of the first one and it promptly passed away! He refused to listen to the heart of the second guinea pig 🤷♀️
Or the time the vet kept ignoring me as she walked back and forwards through the waiting room eventually asking
“Are you being seen to?”
“I’m waiting to see you”
“Do you have an animal out in the car?”
“No it’s on my knee” I said pointing to a very largesse doing leopard tortoise
“OMG I thought that was your handbag!”
Turning 50 was a milestone for me. Seriously if Carlsberg ever do mid-life crisis they should come to me for advice! In an around my fiftieth year I felt compelled to do a skydive, abseil, zipline, walk on fire and scariest of all by far I got a “tramp stamp”.
It’s only a little one, it is only one colour, it didn’t take long to do. What was scary about it was I got it for a fiver in the back room of someone’s bungalow. I queued up in a line where the average age ( with me taken out) was possibly 17 ( I’m going on the fact that the majority had come straight from school and were still in their uniforms).I didn’t really have a lot of choice where to get it as I wanted it somewhere discreet but I had a room full of teenagers watching while I was having to bare the skin for the needle 🙈
Now despite the fact that in my head I feel nowhere near 55 and (5 years ago I certainly didn’t feel 50) I do live in a house with mirrors so I am well aware that the outside world views me without the filters I view myself through (although my mirrors are coated with a generous helping of newfy slobber). I didn’t want to be responsible for traumatising half the teenage population of Carrickfergus. I expect they’re traumatised enough when they realise they live in Carrick.
Why hasn’t anyone thought yet of inventing lenses/glasses with all those wonderful filters you can use on your photos so that everyone looks so much more attractive? Not necessarily the ones with the bunny ears and cute little noses. Just the ones that smooth out wrinkles, fade freckles, whiten teeth, sparkle your eyes and take years off you? I mean I’ve walked past people in the street thinking “I wonder if that’s so-and-so’s mum – from Facebook cos it’s the image of her but about 20 years older” . Were I wearing my filter lenses I’d recognise you in real life! If you were wearing yours you might recognise me too …..then again possibly not as most people seem to assume I spend my life in a unicorn onesie and wellies……including my family 🤔😳
Anyway that’s enough rambling I only came on briefly to say “happy birthday” tattoo you give me the motivation to keep an eye on my weight as I don’t want to end up in a nursing home with what appears to be an elephant paw print on the underside of my belly 👵🏼 …..Mind you it would get the staff talking about what sort of life I must have lead 🤔 Pass me the cake 🎂