Mr. Peabody Has More to Say
05 Feb 2005Between work and Mr. Peabody's doctor's appointments I've been too busy the last few weeks to add any Agility articles. I've got a couple in the works that I hope to finish soon... So I'm thankful that Mr. Peabody has stepped forward again to provide his perspective on this past week.
Since Mother says she is at her wit’s end trying to keep me from what she describes as “rocketing around like a lunatic” (as though I would engage in such mindless activity, unlike a certain hyperactive and incoherent changeling my parents saw fit to adopt). I have agreed to turn paw to another update on my latest doings.
This week found me on yet another trip to the sawbones to get my sutures removed. Thankfully this time the fellow managed to restrain his predilection for indelicate and vulgar personal examinations. He claims that it will be a total of 4-6 weeks until both internal and external healing is complete, but what does he know? I stoutly maintain that there is nothing like a few hours of flyball to set a fellow up for the day.
Heaping insult upon injury, I have been put on a reduced fat diet so as to slow any re-growth or development of fatty tumours. I fear I must bid a sorrowful farewell to the little pate sandwiches, baked brie and most probably my post-prandial lap of port. Mother has made most alarming pronouncements to Grandmere about any lapses from this new Spartan regimen, so my hopes for any under-the-table offerings from that quarter are practically nil. It does not seem fair seeing as how I have always maintained my puppyish figure. I have been promised more strenuous outdoor forays which somewhat makes up for my losses.
Mother has also suggested that I get my hearing checked the next time I am at the physician as she says it seems as though I am “suffering from selective hearing loss”. I have no idea what she is on about as I maintain that I have excellent hearing, possibly even more acute than usual to make up for my weak eyes. I find it touching that a human should be so concerned about a dog’s hearing seeing as how even the best of them are all but deaf.
As long-lived as they are, humans are sadly lacking in sensory capacity. Mother cannot even seem to remember what breed we are as I have overheard her describing us as “Mordor Collies”, “Trifle Hounds” and oddly enough “Spawn” (perhaps it is one of the rare breeds?). But one must make allowances for her advanced age.
On a final note, I must admit a sneaking admiration of my
chowder-headed brother in his successful completion of the Ultimate Weave Pole Challenge.
Although his candle burns but dimly, he is a fine sportsman and is for the most part highly diverting to watch, provided one is at a safe distance.
I must be off as it appears as though it’s time for my perambulation around the school yard.
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