top of bookcases, curtain bottoms were put on the window sills held down by more books and the legs of our new coffee table had nice little chew marks embedded in them. As for her new cane bed it was to end up as her number one chew. Day by day and night by night it gradually reduced in size with bits of cane scattered all over the downstairs into the kitchen. Our new Hoover became an old one when we found the bag torn to shreds and the cable chewed. I am glad to say the ironing board cover just about remained intact after it nearly crushed her when it fell down missing her by several inches resulting in a no go from then on.
As much as one wanted to scold her it was the little twinkle in her eye and the slight turn of her head looking up to you that said it all. The more we tried; it seemed to become an impossible task trying to keep her under control. Our phone bill increased as we both rang our doggy friends to seek their advice. Friction on the home front also took a sharp rise, but not to marriage guidance level I am glad to say. Before too long the first three weeks had passed and we were all still good friends with some form of mutual understanding.
The first injection day and arrived and we were given the name of a good veterinary surgeon in Bungay. Daphne at the Swan had used the practice for years and could not praise them enough.
When we got there having found a suitable parking place we came across this old Suffolk terrace house with marble pillars by the front door. The entrance hall was large with ornate black and white tiles on the floor and the odd hunting picture on the wall at skewed angles. It was cold and likewise was the receptionist. “Name please and would you sit down in the waiting room.” Meanwhile our four legged furry friend popped her head out from the wicker shopping basket and quickly disappeared again whimpering.
The waiting room had a large round table with lots of outdated Country Life magazines in the centre and the chairs looked like they had come from a residential home. Sitting in them you went through almost to the floor with the spring sticking into one’s posterior.
Other people were there, one with a cat and a couple of others with dogs. To my surprise there was another male gentleman sitting opposite dressed in very rural attire with a scruffy flat cap and a creamy white ferret on a lead that was curled up at his feet fast asleep. It reminded me of the ferryman young Bob Church at Southwold who rowed across the River Blyth to Walberswick, who, I recall had a pet ferret? He used to drink at the Harbour Inn at Southwold run by a couple called Bunnie and Lettie. If it was cold he would tuck it down his trousers to keep warm!
“Next!” Came a shout from behind a large scratched oak door and in we all went. What a surprise we were in for! A really charming veterinary surgeon who was in his late 60s with half framed glasses on the end of his nose who looked a little like James Herriot. Kind and considerate, he treated Shelley with the utmost respect even giving her a nice biscuit with a promise of one more after the injection. After a full examination which included checking her hips for displacement he asked where we got her from. On being told he said “Any dog you get from there will be excellent as they know more about Labradors than most.” He gave her another biscuit with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t make a habit of this as they can put on too much weight,” he said with a broad smile.
Driving back that day be both knew we had made the right decision and looking at Shelley on the back seat I think she realised she had
As much as one wanted to scold her it was the little twinkle in her eye and the slight turn of her head looking up to you that said it all. The more we tried; it seemed to become an impossible task trying to keep her under control. Our phone bill increased as we both rang our doggy friends to seek their advice. Friction on the home front also took a sharp rise, but not to marriage guidance level I am glad to say. Before too long the first three weeks had passed and we were all still good friends with some form of mutual understanding.
The first injection day and arrived and we were given the name of a good veterinary surgeon in Bungay. Daphne at the Swan had used the practice for years and could not praise them enough.
When we got there having found a suitable parking place we came across this old Suffolk terrace house with marble pillars by the front door. The entrance hall was large with ornate black and white tiles on the floor and the odd hunting picture on the wall at skewed angles. It was cold and likewise was the receptionist. “Name please and would you sit down in the waiting room.” Meanwhile our four legged furry friend popped her head out from the wicker shopping basket and quickly disappeared again whimpering.
The waiting room had a large round table with lots of outdated Country Life magazines in the centre and the chairs looked like they had come from a residential home. Sitting in them you went through almost to the floor with the spring sticking into one’s posterior.
Other people were there, one with a cat and a couple of others with dogs. To my surprise there was another male gentleman sitting opposite dressed in very rural attire with a scruffy flat cap and a creamy white ferret on a lead that was curled up at his feet fast asleep. It reminded me of the ferryman young Bob Church at Southwold who rowed across the River Blyth to Walberswick, who, I recall had a pet ferret? He used to drink at the Harbour Inn at Southwold run by a couple called Bunnie and Lettie. If it was cold he would tuck it down his trousers to keep warm!
“Next!” Came a shout from behind a large scratched oak door and in we all went. What a surprise we were in for! A really charming veterinary surgeon who was in his late 60s with half framed glasses on the end of his nose who looked a little like James Herriot. Kind and considerate, he treated Shelley with the utmost respect even giving her a nice biscuit with a promise of one more after the injection. After a full examination which included checking her hips for displacement he asked where we got her from. On being told he said “Any dog you get from there will be excellent as they know more about Labradors than most.” He gave her another biscuit with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t make a habit of this as they can put on too much weight,” he said with a broad smile.
Driving back that day be both knew we had made the right decision and looking at Shelley on the back seat I think she realised she had
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