This is a recent photo of my old, hairy pal – half Womble Half Haggis Flora.The Greyfriars Bobby lookalike I have been lucky enough to spend the past 10 years living with.
Recently when she smiled – or yawned or just ate – she could clear a room. The world halitosis is one that doesn’t even scratch the surface of what was going on in that aging quadropeds chops.
In all honesty we were approached by various international warlords enquiring as to whether they could use her breath as a weapon of mass destruction but we declined. I love that smelly wee dog I said so away back to your despot nation and be done with it.
So I dropped her in to Victor the vet – the brave man with presumably gas mask and gauntlets took on the job. I picked her up several hours later, a shadow of her former self, standing but registering nothing in those drugged up eyeballs, 4 teeth and a large slice of gum lighter.
My wee pud stumbled around the garden like Oliver Reed on a Saturday night before collapsing in a fitful snoring coma for the next 12 hours.
Today – 2 days later – I can reveal she is back to waggy, smiley, cheeky and delightful. She is on soft food for 2 weeks – which is annoying the hell out of Nice but dim Labrador Sam who cannot understand why she is still being fed hard fibrous nodules and the geriatric dwarf dog is getting Ceasar – which incidentally is the same price as roast beef as far as I can work out. Still……I’ll have to go an get some L’oreal shampoo because she is worth it.