A late call from Michael alarmed me from my early -to-bed, early-to-rise friend,
'What's the matter?'
'I think Paschale is dying'
Shock - horror - she was all right yesterday.
'That lump or cyst or whatever you were worried about on her shoulder...'
'Yes?'
'It flared up and now her leg and neck are so swollen she can't walk or breath properly. It looks so bad, and she's nearly 14, and... and...'
Well of course Pashcale has always been Michael's little girl from the day he brought her home. She has never much liked me although I have spent nearly 14 years devoted to her and caring for her every need. I didn't want another Saluki at the time she was born but was told I must take one from a litter sired by my dog, stud fees unheard of apparently. She wasn't even my first choice although I soon realized she was the right one - but she obviously never quite forgave me. Always a tough little hound, neither giving nor craving much affection, she has only ever shown any real fondness for her son Roman and for Michael. He was always besotted with her as I have always been with Roman and so his uncharacteristic panic made me reverse the usual roles and calm my friend,
'I remember the lump looked a bit swollen up and it sounds like an infection that got out of hand - she needs antibiotics and she won't die if she gets treatment. Better ring Dr John and see if we can take her down now'
Well, Dr J diagnosed an abscess straight away but she of course went through all kinds of tests and probably a drip as well - so many vet visits I really can't remember who had what - and back-up appointments over several days trying to avoid an operation which the vet was loath to perform given her age and our finances. I didn't want her to return to 'the bunker' which is much colder than my home being further up the mountains but it was the best place away from the 'boys'. Michael applied hot/cold poultices and pads of medical alcohol to draw out the pus and after a couple of days the abscess burst . He continued with the same care and a cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers and of course she rapidly recovered (old or not I 'm a champion Saluki of ancient and noble lineage) and yet another crisis passed and another bill was run up to add to the ever increasing diesel/petrol and electricity costs.
The males continued with their rivalry and generally appalling behaviour throughout winter days of storms, mud, wet bedding, soaked towels, grimy floors and walls spattered by hounds shaking off the excesses of dashes through torrents saturating their coats. I considered sending photos to Kelly Hoppen of my amazing main room design with extraordinary sepia wall paintings, multi-coloured drapes and furnishings and pretty mobiles, all subtly lit by candlelight. The reality by day showed where mud plastered long Saluki tails has brushed and swept all over the walls, bedding hanging on every available stand in a vain attempt to dry before dark and the candlelight was an unromantic necessity in the frequent power cuts. The mobiles were my fractured garden wind-chimes brought in to save them from ceasing to chime ever again - but of course we live in luxury on a sunny Med island where we don't need a heating allowance - even the Cyprus government agrees with the UK, the many millions borrowed from the EU and taken from UK retirement/lifetime savings bank accounts could surely be put to better use. I sleep in my coat under a fleece blanket on my sofa surrounded by my dogs who have everything else I can find to warm their thin desert bodies.
Today, all the Salukis are back and basically well but Golly is afraid of everything including rain, wind and the veranda - we wait for the 'glorious summer'...
'What's the matter?'
'I think Paschale is dying'
Shock - horror - she was all right yesterday.
'That lump or cyst or whatever you were worried about on her shoulder...'
'Yes?'
'It flared up and now her leg and neck are so swollen she can't walk or breath properly. It looks so bad, and she's nearly 14, and... and...'
Well of course Pashcale has always been Michael's little girl from the day he brought her home. She has never much liked me although I have spent nearly 14 years devoted to her and caring for her every need. I didn't want another Saluki at the time she was born but was told I must take one from a litter sired by my dog, stud fees unheard of apparently. She wasn't even my first choice although I soon realized she was the right one - but she obviously never quite forgave me. Always a tough little hound, neither giving nor craving much affection, she has only ever shown any real fondness for her son Roman and for Michael. He was always besotted with her as I have always been with Roman and so his uncharacteristic panic made me reverse the usual roles and calm my friend,
'I remember the lump looked a bit swollen up and it sounds like an infection that got out of hand - she needs antibiotics and she won't die if she gets treatment. Better ring Dr John and see if we can take her down now'
Well, Dr J diagnosed an abscess straight away but she of course went through all kinds of tests and probably a drip as well - so many vet visits I really can't remember who had what - and back-up appointments over several days trying to avoid an operation which the vet was loath to perform given her age and our finances. I didn't want her to return to 'the bunker' which is much colder than my home being further up the mountains but it was the best place away from the 'boys'. Michael applied hot/cold poultices and pads of medical alcohol to draw out the pus and after a couple of days the abscess burst . He continued with the same care and a cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers and of course she rapidly recovered (old or not I 'm a champion Saluki of ancient and noble lineage) and yet another crisis passed and another bill was run up to add to the ever increasing diesel/petrol and electricity costs.
The males continued with their rivalry and generally appalling behaviour throughout winter days of storms, mud, wet bedding, soaked towels, grimy floors and walls spattered by hounds shaking off the excesses of dashes through torrents saturating their coats. I considered sending photos to Kelly Hoppen of my amazing main room design with extraordinary sepia wall paintings, multi-coloured drapes and furnishings and pretty mobiles, all subtly lit by candlelight. The reality by day showed where mud plastered long Saluki tails has brushed and swept all over the walls, bedding hanging on every available stand in a vain attempt to dry before dark and the candlelight was an unromantic necessity in the frequent power cuts. The mobiles were my fractured garden wind-chimes brought in to save them from ceasing to chime ever again - but of course we live in luxury on a sunny Med island where we don't need a heating allowance - even the Cyprus government agrees with the UK, the many millions borrowed from the EU and taken from UK retirement/lifetime savings bank accounts could surely be put to better use. I sleep in my coat under a fleece blanket on my sofa surrounded by my dogs who have everything else I can find to warm their thin desert bodies.
Today, all the Salukis are back and basically well but Golly is afraid of everything including rain, wind and the veranda - we wait for the 'glorious summer'...
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