in the doghouse

oh boy, have i excelled myself now! i am well and truly in the doghouse. up till now i have been able to extract a certain amount of sympathy for the misfortune that befell my shoulder. but yesterday i think i blew it.

it all started because herself was looking the other way. to be more precise, she was washing the walls. this is not a normal part of the cleaning routine but because the peeps are selling the house, herself has become the perfect little (well, not so little if the truth be told) housewife. this week the peeps dropped the price in an effort to find someone to buy the place. in anticipation of hoards of punters at the weekend a cleanathon was embarked upon.

it has to be said, the walls did need a bit of a wash. as well as the dodgy shoulder i also have a little problem with my tail. what happens is that when we are about to go for a walk my lady friend and i get a bit geed up. she bounces up and down on the spot with her front legs and rotates her tail like a propeller. i favour the running in circles while lashing my tail from side to side approach. which would be all fine and dandy but for the fact that the old tail, which has something of a mind of its own, regularly makes contact with hard surfaces.

in the past i have had to pay a number of visits to the evil wonderful vet to have the tail patched up. on one memorable occasion it had to be encased in its own little box to stop me bashing it while it healed up. this was after i had cut it and continued to wag it, spraying the place with arcs of blood which left it looking like a scene from a horror movie. our house is entered through a room with windows on 3 sides. the windows have pale cream cotton curtains. the walls are pale cream. you can imagine how herself loved washing 12 curtains and 3 walls!

anyway, the old tail has been up to its tricks again, no doubt jealous of the attention the shoulder was getting. herself took the view that the blood on the walls might put off the potential purchasers. so there she is on her knees scrubbing away at the walls, while i lay in my bed surveying the scene. without thinking i gave the old shoulder a bit of a scratch with my foot. bad move. out pinged 3 or 4 stitches and the bottom half of the wound gaped open again. herself went pale. whether this was the result of having a squeamish disposition or the thought of the bill i don't know.

so yet another trip to the vet, with herself muttering at me the whole way in the car about putting my size 9s in it yet again. the only good thing about the whole escapade was that i was able to have a quick word with the vet without herself noticing, the result being that he told herself he wouldn't charge on this occasion for patching me up. herself looked noticably relieved.

i'm not altogether sure how i'll fulfill my promise of bunging him a haunch of venison with this gammy shoulder...