A Bad Patient

 After three hours sleep , several dog painkillers and two bowls of hand fed roast chicken Dorothy came out from under my duvet with all of the drama of Scarlet O’Hara after she gave birth to daughter Bonnie.

I swear she was limping , even though her only injury was the bite on her neck.

I had covered the wound with antibiotic purple spray after it had been vet inspected, and lucky for Dorothy there were only two puncture wounds rather than a rip to deal with. 

Having said this after the vet had examined her, she insisted on showing her injury to both vet nurses and the woman on reception, all of whom ohhhhed and arhhhhed appropriately 

At home she only stopped shaking when safely under the duvet , her neck wrapped in a clean tea towel .

My poor little lost girl

She’s such a baby.

She didn’t need this drama today.

And to be honest , neither  did I 

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Drama

 Whilst on our early morning walk Dorothy was set upon by a black staffie type off it’s lead.

She was still on hers, we had just gotten out of Bluebell.

The staffie circled once then clamped onto her throat before I could stamp on it 

I stamped on it until it eventually let go

Mary biting at its arse in typical terrier style.

The dogs owner threatened to “fuck me over!” 

I yelled back so loud that he sloped away very quickly his dog hanging from its collar.

The air was blue.

Dorothy was terribly shocked and bleeding and was shaking and whimpering long after I had cleaned and photographed her wound on the kitchen top. 

She’s not long back from the vets and I’ve taken her to bed to rest under the duvet 

I’ve informed the police 

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Tired

 In the storm

You don’t delight

In my pain

Suffering

I don’t like you

Please renew

My faith

I’m so tired

Of trying 

To do right

It seems futile

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