Third Brush with Death

Last Sunday I woke up lying in what Person called Smelly Soup.

Person said 'Why do Things Always Happen on a Sunday?'

Person stopped feeding me. She said 'If Nothing Goes In, Nothing Comes Out'.

HUNGRY.

Lovely Vet gave me...

Pills for My Poo.

Probiotics for My Tummy.

Liquid for My Joints.

Anyway, I have a New Collar. 

My New Collar has Magnets in it and London Busses on it.

Magnets? London? Busses?

Also, what is a Rainbow Bridge?

Confusing.

Little Pickle thinks I'm getting Far Too Much Attention.

Person Thought it was Bye Bye Pip

I Sniffed.

I Couldn't Stop. I Couldn't Breathe.

Then I started Coughing. I Gagged. I Choked.

Person had to Leave me at The Vet's Door. 

All By Myself.

Antisocial Distancing.

Person said No Operation.

But I CAME BACK HOME! 

I have a Tumour somewhere in my Throat.

Did Pickle Miss Me when I was at The Vet?

Milly HOWLED when I left home Without Her.

Zara was just.....Zara.

The Vet told Person she would Keep Me Comfortable for As Long As Possible.

I have Pills. I have Powder. I have Liquid.

Anyway, here I am as a Puppy. Fifteen Years Ago.