Today we visit the vet. The vet comments on my tail, which is white (whilst the rest of me is mainly brown). The Vet says not all dogs of my variety keep their tails. He says I seem glad that I still have it.
Glad that I still have it? I had not realised I was living in a world in which keeping the parts you were born with was some kind of privilege, although come to think of it this may explain why the Owner has no tail. I wonder if her vet took it.
The vet tickles my ears and although I am not, as the Owner claims, Anyone’s for a Tickle, my tail begins to wag. The vet and the Owner spend a further moment admiring it and then… well.
It seems ear tickling was being used for a certain amount of lulling. Unbelievably, as my tail wags like a mad thing the vet takes advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration to check my Other Areas in a manner I consider positively familiar. Without even a courtesy warning sniff. He then suggests to My Owner that he has some kind of continuing option regarding these parts. Will I be keeping them? Asks the Vet.
I can hardly believe my ears. Whose parts are they talking about? Am I to be dismantled?
The Owner tells the vet I will be keeping those particular parts.
Of course I will. They are bound to come in Useful. I wonder if the vet is trying to build new dogs out of spare parts in his back room. If so he has been foiled this time. I wonder if he built Caspar.
As I am lifted down from the table I resolve that, from now on, I will regard all ear ticklers with Great Suspicion. Particularly vets. I have no intention of donating any of my parts for the construction of Other Dogs. There will be no more lulling.
The vet tickles my ears again but, with my new-found wariness, I give him an Aloof Look. My tail, sadly, does not. As we leave it still wags furiously. It’s such a traitor.
Do you know, I don’t remember it growing there. I’m not even sure it’s mine.
Hergest the Hound
I am a dog of many thoughts.