Toby: part Dog, part Lion

I have a new, true love.

He's Jack Russell shaped and has grey-blue eyes.

To see him gamboling through the woods and losing his mind over a stick, you might be forgiven for thinking this is just your common or garden variety pooch.

But you'd be wrong.

For this little chap has hidden depths and reserves of courage that can only be found in the hearts of lions!

I came across Toby almost a month ago, whilst doing a run to the local dump.

He'd clearly been outdoors for a long time (and on closer inspection, I suspect his whole life might have been spent that way) but worse still, he'd obviously been involved in some kind of accident. At the time, it appeared he'd dislocated his rear left leg.

The location of the site is quite rural, with lots of woods and fields around it, and to get up there you have to take a windy lane. It's certainly an area where those of a mind might take a dog lamping for rabbits and the like.......

Anyway, he had no collar or name tag, was absolutely running alive with fleas and the pooh they so kindly leave throughout the fur, and he clearly hadn't had food or water for some time.

Still, I met with those beautiful eyes, and I fell arse-over-tit-in-love!

I took him to a local animal hospital, marvelling at how this terrified, exhausted little chap was allowing me to handle him, all without a snarl or an ounce of aggression.
In fact, he manouvered himself, despite the fact he must have been in terrible pain, so that he could cuddle up under my arm as I drove.

The vet looked him over and said he desperately needed rehydrating, and I told them that if he was not microchipped and nobody would claim him, that I wanted to take responsibility for paying for his care.

He was immediately de-fleaed, whisked away and put on a drip, and x-rays were taken the next day.

As it turned out, he had terrible breaks and fractures in both legs, with the left side pelvis actually broken away from the spine. Imagine, covered in fleas and no back legs to scratch with. It really must have been torturous, and I don't like to dwell for too long on what he must have been through.
The vet said an orthopaedic surgeon would need to look at the x-rays and that an operation to pin bits back together might be necessary. This, to the tune of around £2,500.............either that, or he'd probably have to be put down.

'Gutted' is the word that best describes my next set of emotions.

I just thought it was so bloody unfair that such a fate might be his; a little guy who'd already had it pretty rough (or should that be ruff.....?)
Fortunately my other half has a heart made of gold when it comes to such things, and along with lovely friends, well-meaning folk who were rooting for him, and other family members who all offered help with money, we opted to have the surgeon look at him to see what might be done. (For the record, a woman who was at the dump at the time I came across the dog, donated £10 to the cause. For that small, yet incredibly generous act, I hope she is blessed onehundredfold.)

Unlike the utter bastards who abandoned him. I hope misery befalls them at every turn.

There was a wait of a few days for the surgeon to take a look at the x-rays, and in the meantime the dog was hooked up to morphine for his pain. We considered naming him Pete Doggerty, as he seemed rather partial.

Anyway, the nice man had a look-see and said that he felt the breaks might fuse themselves together provided the dog was confined to cage rest! He saw no point in going in and operating, and as it had earlier transpired that Toby also has a heart murmur, it would have been risky.

I was made as happy as I've ever felt, right in that instant. Woohoo!!

I was allowed to collect him from the vet after 8 days, having hung on to a handful of change out of £600 (I know I will never be a morphine addict.....that shit costs, man!)

To my ever expanding joy and delight, this former no-mark-junkie-stinkpot-rat-dog is coming on a treat.

His pelvis has indeed fused back together, if a tad lopsidedly. He bounces along, positively dazzling with his bright, shiny, soft coat.
If I'd let him, he'd chase balls and sticks and walk for ages. But we all have to be patient for a couple of weeks more. He's moved on from the total cage rest and having to be carried in and out, but we keep the walks calm and short for now.
He's gentle and quiet, and infact has not once so much as barked. He pricks up his ears and wags for England and is just about the cutest, most sociable, dare I say, polite little dog I have ever come across.

I am always blown away by animals who have suffered because of humans , and yet their capacity for love and loyalty and gratitude stays with them.
It really is a very pure thing, and I consider that we are the ones who have been given a gift, in the form of this brave and utterly charming mutt.

I hope we have the pleasure of his company for a very long time.

Think of the Devil....

I was pottering about this morning getting ready for work, when an old friend came into my mind.

Having moved home in September, and having not seen her since she ripped me off for twenty quid to fund the beginnings of an all consuming, two year fling with Messrs. Crack and Heroin, the thought went through my mind that I might hear from her apart from the fact that she no longer has my number.

Lo and behold! The house phone rings, and I hear familliar tones.

We fell into the old patterns of chat, like there hasn't been any of the neglect and prostitution and thieving in the time she's been in hell.

And I've no doubt in my mind that is precisely where she's been in these two years since the Friday sessions stopped and she stopped choosing life.
We used to dance in her kitchen to Moloko and Macy Gray and Fat Boy Slim, and sing our heads off, until we were nicely breathless and very drunk.

Anyway, that all changed and she has since lived a life unthinkable.

But like I asked her, "What the fuck did you expect?"
There was always an element of playing the movies in her head. It brightened up an otherwise mundane, utterly wasted life. I guess she fancied herself as Uma Thurman.

Anyway, she has been getting treatment, funded by her parents, and as far as she's saying, she's back and back for good.

It makes me happy to hope so at least.

She's been a friend for a very long time, and I have missed her and her children.

I must tell her one day how angry I've been that she left me unable to help her.

I've seen other acquaintances, friends and a past love lost to this shit and I hope I shall continue reporting that she isn't another of them.

Tit in a trance

I have a little Blue Tit and his mate, doing a frenzied, pointless little dance outside my living room window.

They are both bouncing up and down against the glass, in an attempt to perch on the horizontal trimmings of the window.

The problem is that they are sealed inside the two pieces of glass and Mr Tit and his pretty wife, have spent the day pogo-ing up and down, little beaks smacking the pane.

He looks rather puffed out now and more than a little cheesed off. Or pehaps that look is confusion.........

I shall try and get a photo of them in action.

Charmed?

I'll say.

Fine.

This is a rather childish, yet mildly amusing quiz for you to take.

I was fined £175.00 and some pence.

http://www.robmanuel.com/areyouafilthybastard/

Happy Birthday to.....

Me!

37, and ok with counting.

As my lovely Mum always remarks....'Ageing beats the alternative'

The Village People

No, I'm not talking about the handle-bar moustachioed biker and his gang........

I'm talking about the people I work with.
(Think biggest independant furniture retailer in the UK and you'll get me!)

I've been in the job for four and a half months now, and it's good news all round.

Surrounded by some of the best individuals I have ever come across in my working life, who have been more than generous in welcoming me and accepting me with open arems for who I am, this is where I know I'll be for the forseeable future.
I had a such a nightmare with work in the year or so before this came along, and I somehow feel it was all meant to be. I have ended up in a place that feels right.
The pace is fast and demanding, the workload massive, but I find myself absolutely loving it.

As if the shine on all this was not dazzling enough, I was approached by the head of HR last week, sounding me out about a promotion.

I am really pleased that I have been seen as having potential, and I will give the idea due consideration when and if it becomes a firm thing, but it would mean that I'd have to leave my current base and move up the road to Head Office.

The idea of not working with the colleagues I have now leaves me very much in two minds, but the whole company employs some really good people as far as I can see and I think it'll be fun getting to know as many of them as I can.
I also think it's time I took a break from dumbing down my own potential with fears and frets, and started going along with the advice and opportunities offered by those that recognise and acknowledge it.

Whatever happens, I will be forever in the debt of Billy, Tom, Lady P and the other good folks at Slough.

They've made getting paid a bonus.

Christ on a bike!

Nightmarish.

That has been my experience of switching over to the new Blogger.

Just spent half an hour on the phone with one of my learned brothers, and hey presto!

There is much to report from my little life, and for a minute there, I thought I'd never get access again.

I've removed cookies, cleared my cache, upgraded my Javascript...blah, blah, technical blah.

Remote assistance rocks!

Anyway, I shall take the time over the next week or so, to update my horribly neglected Blog and to catch up on this part of my life, in general.

Please continue to watch this space.