The Fatdog practically blew a gasket trying to get back to the house. We’d made it about 30m from the front door to the main drag through the estate when she heard something…goodness knows what it was she heard, but she heard something, something which obviously heralded the end of the world. So…that was it…straight back to the house. Quivering.
We opted for the failsafe solution to all her mental wobblies…we took her to see her brother.
Maisie’s brother Murphy was the “big boy” of the litter. Maisie was the runt. The two of them have had contact all through their lives and are very close. Murphy lives only a few miles away with J’s sister, The Cupcake Queen, so when Maisie has one of these nervous attacks we take her to see him. For some odd reason Murphy’s presence seems to calm her down and convinces her to walk sensibly, or at least sensibly enough in that she’ll actually get out of “The Tank”.
The Cupcake Queen and I opted to take the dogs for a wee walk up Fankerton Glen which they both thoroughly enjoyed, with neurotic Maisie thankfully returning to her happier self.
Here they both are at the “most useless gate in the universe” …
PS. Don’t worry about The Fatdog, things are improving.