Pissing In The Wind

Any thoughts of getting creative have taken a back seat today as I am a lethal combination of exhausted, stressed and evil. Yesterday we made the 320 mile round trip to Brighton with 2 whinging 'we hate travelling' dogs in transit. The reason for this day trip madness? So I could spend a few hours in the company of my friend, deliver 'the' rainbow blanket and in turn save my dwindling sanity. Despite the lousy overcast and wet weather it worked. I got to see the people who mean a lot to me; we had tea and cake in the rather lovely Metrodeco and then a jaunt around the lanes of Brighton. I got to stand and look out to sea and came away looking just a wee bit windswept. When you live - as we sadly do - in the landlocked, chav filled Midlands these batty excursions work wonders for the soul.

Cake anyone? Tough...it's mine all mine

Today I feel like getting in the car and heading down there again after a trip to the Vet's has sent my stress levels into hyperspace! I've had the same Vet for 20 odd years but was finding the 40 mile round trip every 4 weeks a bit of a bind so in my infinite wisdom I moved the dogs to the one in town which is 10 minutes away. I can't say I've been impressed. Every time I take the 'old codger' for his cartilage injections I get the same personality lacking, simpering Aussie wet weekend that they would have me believe is a qualified Vet. Today she managed to wind me up and piss me off in such equal proportions I almost wished that Timmy would get her with his 1 fang. He's been drinking and peeing to excess in the past week and I was worried so wanted him checked out. After being given the wrong information by the nurse on reception I didn't turn up with a sample ( I did try) so I basically had to fork out £20 for the Vet to spout shite to me for a few minutes. She filled my head with talk of Cushings disease and kidney failure and then made the excuse that she couldn't listen to the dogs chest cos he was grumbling (she has no backbone this woman) so could I go away and come back with a urine sample which might not tell them much so then they'd have to do blood tests and maybe more blood tests which could run to several hundreds of pounds. During all of this Timmy (who is a bit special in a lot of ways) was doing what he always does in company - talking in his own unique way which sounds something like a goose being strangled crossed with a sea lion. The insipid specimen kept jumping back and asking me what the hell he was doing as it sounded like he was hiccuping. I decided there and then that I would rather drive 20 miles to see a true professional than 10 minutes to see a lousy excuse of  an educated human being who might be a bit cheaper. Consider that a very important lesson learnt. I may have to get the crochet out after all. Every time I jab the hook into the wool I can imagine I'm jabbing the bloody vet and my stress levels will return to normal.

Who are you calling special?!