It's my Birthday

Well, it was last week.  I'm five now.  Look I got a badge an' everything, Bean found me a lovely pink ribbon.

Five years old - wow. That makes me a big girl, ready for school the Mother Bean says.  Not sure about that I work all day already so when would I fit it in?

I got lovely pressies too and both in my favourite colour.  One's an Okopus and the other is a Squirtle (well, that's what its label says).  I really don't which is better so they take turns.
Finnegan has tried to steal the Squirtle back but I've taken them beyond the gate so he can't - much, he does pick-mouth as I bring them back to show them off.

Wimbledon - already?

Well no actually.

Yes, that's Pimms, but look at the TV, not green lawn tennis courts but rugby posts.

First time we've been drinking Pimms during a match, well it was the final and it was the end of May but even so.  And no, we're not discussing the result.  Roll on September.

The further adventures of Finnegan the Foolish Hooligan

Shortly after his trip to see his favourite Vet the top from a milk bottle went missing, we had a suspicion that Finnegan had stolen it, as he's the only canine big enough to reach where it had been left; but the window of opportunity was small and it didn't really follow his usual modus operandi,  of taking his booty to munch into little bits on his dragon's den.  We watched him like a hawk for a few days - over a week really - and he was absolutely fine and no sign of the top.  So we began to think it must have been thrown away and we didn't realise, or it's down the back of cupboard or similar equally inconspicuous.
Then last week Hebe picked up a stomach bug from somewhere, the pungent aromas in the office on Friday afternoon necessitated having all the windows open even though it was raining heavens hard. Poor small black was quite out of sorts with herself, not helped by her Beans shouting at the men on the box chasing after the oval ball.  Being a labrador it didn't put her off her food or heading out for walks. But on Saturday night she threw up pretty much everything she'd eaten that day and the dog house was awash in the morning from her at one end and Finnegan at the other. No breakfast on Sunday for either and they were both feeling sorry for themselves with hot noses and warm ears and then by tea time with still no sign of food on the horizon they started grumbling about empty tummies. Hebe was fine on Monday if a little flat because of the shortage of food, brown bread and honey for breakfast cheered her up no end but Finnegan exploded all over the yard - nice! So he was on bread and honey and half rations, all was fine by Tuesday, slightly dodgy tum from hound but getting better - the pro-biotics and slippery elm left over from last year's adventures were working a treat.

And then...
Thursday night he threw up again and kindly left this:

 It's pretty much all there.  Such cheers and smiles over a small piece of blue plastic have probably not been seen before! And hope will not be again. 

Foolish Hound. 
Note to self, he can reach much further and is more sneaky than you think.

Footnote, Maia's got the bug now and is making the pungent smells, lovely...

Pink bandage AND a trip to see the vet!

Apparently several miles of tape and bandage with dressings thrown in for good measure, not to mention half a tube of fusciderm are not sufficient when it comes to clobbered tails. We changed the dressings this morning and it wasn't looking -or smelling- too good. An hour of open air and more disinfectant scrub and anti-everything gel before a lighter, to let the air in, dressing which seemed ok. BUT twenty mins left unattended one Friday afternoon and Finnegan had not only ripped the dressing off but chewed an enormous hole in his tail gushing blood all over. I know a little blood goes a long way but this was more than a little and required a pressure bandage to make it stop. Mum was recalled from an afternoon "tea party" and off to Eastgate we went. Favourite vet Katie greeted him with a "what have you done now, Finn?" before clipping all the hair off the bottom half of his tail. Cleaned again, lathered in chamomile cream and more dressings, which unfortunately didn't last the journey home. With a bag full of 'shopping' and a few pounds lighter in the wallet we came home. Stupid hound is feeling sorry for himself, partly the trip to the vets, partly a bit on infection, partly the antibiotics and antinflamatory but also that he's still careering about like a crackpot and belting the great long appendage on doors, walls, chairs, people, tables - pretty much anything that happens to be vaguely within range.
A weekend of feeling sorry for himself and having his tail grabbed everytime it went anywhere near any hard (or even soft) surface / upright and it's looking loads better, a few hours of no dressing to let it dry out helped enormously too.  A check up on Tuesday and he gets signed off, we have another bag of 'shopping' to keep him wrapped up until it's healed.
Nearly two weeks later and he's bandage free.

The answer is? Lots and lots of bandage

Remember the question? How to bandage the bottom third of a nearly 3 foot long tail.
Like this:

First cut your dressing to size and in pieces so it will flex with the tail, next tape it in place with several metres of microtape. then cover it all with multiple layers of vetwrap.  As you can see it's Hebe's favourite colour - PINK!  It was the threat when the tail licking was going on, "if you don't stop, I'll wrap in in a pink bandage!"  Well the threats didn't work but so far the bandage is.  I'm amazed that it's not been wagged off or ripped off or battered off against cupboards, tails or people. Although some of the tape is coming off, but that's easy enough to replace.
The addition of the dressing has made an already painful weapon into an offensive one!  Everyone has bruises of varying degrees and differing locations  - all except Finnegan who is oblivious to it all.  It's wound check and redress tomorrow morning; fingers crossed it's healing well under there but regardless of the mendedness it's staying covered until it's skinned over again.  Remembering the hock injury this could take a while.  The spare bandage is violent cat sick green, not sure if that's preferable to day-glo pink.  I'm sure we'll find out soon enough.  But not too soon please Finn.

And Custard cried for a nice safe cage

Whilst all Hebe wanted was to get out.

Last week Finnegan clobbered his tail on a table causing a small fissure.  Unfortunately as he's in the middle of his 'spring rash' pyoderma phase it became very itchy and he nibbled it from a small nick to larger wound.  On Thursday red splashes were seen in the hall prompting investigation and the raw patch was discovered, cleaned up and treated with fuciderm gel.  He carried on nibbling, under cover of paw and out of sight, increasing the raw patch. Cries of "Finnegan, leave", and "Finn, no" were heard for days on end and the tail began to dry up. But then mysteriously the patch began getting bigger and red again, the girls sniffed it and Hebe thought about having a lick, Finn didn't seem in the least bit bothered, but then he's not as green as he's Irish looking. Monday morning and it's red raw dripping blood and looking like fresh steak.  The suspicion fell on Hebe.  So the puppy cage (wolfhound sized puppy I hasten to add) was hauled out of storage and erected in the dog house.  Hebe was very happy to hop in and out having slept in it for months as a puppy and then again when Finnegan was too big for it but not big enough to share the dog house sensibly without wreaking havoc.  Bedtime came and Hebe hoped in, she looked a little worried when Maia didn't join her and then more than a little worried when the door was closed but her bedtime bonio distracted her.  Tuesday morning and Hebe was a liberated prisoner having been in solitary confinement all night what joy unconfined (at last).  Finnegan's tail? Red raw again.  Hebe has been exonerated and now we have to find a way to bandage the bottom third of a nearly 3 foot long tail.  Elizabethan collars don't work on long nosed, long tailed wolfhounds.

Finnegan's revenge

OK, if you've stolen my birthday triangle, I'm having your Christmas penguin.

I guess that's fair so Hebe don't look so mournful. And anyway, I'm sure you'll filtch it back again soon enough.