Friday, 18 May 2012

Saying Goodbye

As those of you who read my blogs will know my cat Benny has been poorly recently.
On Wednesday we had to go back to see Brad the Vet once more.
This time due to the large amount of weight loss over the past few weeks He could feel a large tumour on her kidneys. This was in all probability a secondary tumour, with the unidentified primary pressing on nerves causing her paralysis.
I had to make the decision to say goodbye to her before she had to suffer anymore.
There have been lots of tears in the Scrummy house since then, the children have found it really hard-and the dog is now pining for her companion and partner in crime.
Me- Im ok- remembering lots of happy times over the past 12 years with my rather too clever pusscat!
her first day with us
TC and Benny
Watching her favourite programme
helping with the ironing

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Scritchy Scratchers

Up until a couple of months ago we in the Scrummy household had been very lucky. Despite having worked for years in schools and nursery's and having two children in school we had never had to endure the shame of nitty nits.How our lives have changed!!!!
Let me explain- I went to a very old fashioned catholic convent school where the nit nurse came regularly to check every ones hair. The whole school had to line up one behind the other in the school hall under the gaze of the statue of our dear Lord himself. It was very simple- if you had nits you were given a letter in front of everyone and were not allowed back in school until the infestation had gone. The message was simple- nice children did not get nits- and the shame that having nits brought upon your family was not worth considering. Despite being the eldest of three no one in my family ever got nits. My mum would never have coped with the embarrassment and  my Grandma would have been mortified.
So you can imagine I was a little traumatised when my 6 year old daughter came running upstairs one morning and gleefully told me she had just picked something big and white out of her hair and it had run across the floor. Her brother helpfully announced "that's nits that is " (too much horrid Henry in my opinion!)
It would appear that children of today have a very different outlook - as both of mine skipped merrily across the playground that morning cheerfully and a tad loudly pronouncing that my daughter had real life scritchy scratchers in her hair. By the time we reached the school gates I was surprised that sky news were not covering it on their tickertape thingy since my two angels had happily spread the word to all and sundry.
The only strategy open to me was to embrace the problem, and fess up- buy a nit comb and act like theres nothing wrong. If my kids can view nits as a badge of honour then so could I .
Couple of days later and numerous hours spent with the comb and the problem had gone. I could breathe a sigh of relief and pretend that it had never happened.Why I could almost laugh about it.

Last night the standard letter "theres nits in the class" came home.
 Checked daughters hair.
Two bliming eggs.
Pass the gin please I feel another visit from the scritchy scratchers is on the way!!!!

Monday, 7 May 2012

my new best friend- Brad the vet

Its been a traumatic few weeks in the scrummy household. We have had poorly sick animals. That's right- plural- both the dog and the cat. Proper poorly animals too- requiring numerous trips to the vets. I have managed 7 visits in the last 3 weeks and a bill of over £700 pounds.

The good news is  that my dog is now fine- the very high temperature has passed, and shes back to being an adorable pain in the backside as per usual.

The cat however is still struggling.She has had a paralysis in her rear leg for 3 weeks now. She appears to think this is somehow my fault and has decided the beat strategy is to sulk. As a result she hasn't moved far and is eating next to nothing. I am finding myself wondering around a selection of supermarkets buying yet more cat food trying to find something to tempt her.Throughout the day I am moving her to her favourite places trying to encourage some signs of life or interest. I have even taken her upstairs in the hope that she would have to make her own way back down - but no she sat exactly where I had left her looking really unhappy until I gave in and carried her back to her bed.

Hence my new best friend Brad. Having only gone to  the vets once a year for boosters, we are now on first name terms. He even recognises my voice on the phone. I suspect hes spending his bank holiday booking a 5 star break somewhere exotic at my expense. I meanwhile am lamenting my decision not to train as a vet 20 years ago. I am a little concerned that he may think I am starting to develop stalker tendencies but my face is not yet on a poster baring me from the practice so I figure all is good. Me and the cat are back to see him again on Wednesday- I have made the appointment at an earlier time to keep him on his toes-variety is the spice of life after all!