Clint is on the mend.  The remaining offending material miraculously appeared last evening.  Now we watch his progress and enjoy each hard earned step forward.  He is eating well and his innards are functioning properly.  Now it is time and careful management.  The enforced confinement in the house seems to suit - he doesn't mind the lead walks nor is he chafing to go play with his buddies, sensible fellow that he is.  Billy, on the other hand, is ticked at being in steerage rather than first class.  His discussion of the insult is regular and highly indignant.  Our Ken (the light of Billy's life) avoids anything dealing with Bill until he is let out of the ignominy - Ken has sacrificed and taken on the 'open the gates' role.  What a guy !  The rest of the crew are a bit perplexed by the change in the house.  Trebia tries to live in or on Lee and takes exception to any of the others in close proximity.  Marguerite is Lee's shadow, moving around the Cirneco as needs be and assisting in the daily chores in typical Marguerite fashion - that paper covering the floor was simply an attempt to tidy the area, right Marguerite?  The puppies are applying for their engineering equivalency, having supervised the installation of the wood oven and now the gate project.  In Canada, engineers wear an iron ring on their little finger.  Will have to call the university to get two made in size 0.


The wood oven project continues.  The gate installation has required that Lee be summoned on a regular basis to hold various and sundry parts, for what purpose only Our Ken knows.  There appears to be no forward momentum but there certainly has been adequate study.  Photos of parts were sent to Tony today.  Progress is imminent.  Curing continues.  Rain is not assisting. 


It is flight school day.  While it was a 'taking your life in your hands' moment previously with parents swooping in and out to feed the brood, there are now six little characters learning how to use their wings.  Some are more steady than others.  All can now balance on the flagpole on the deck, the wind chimes and the railing.  the chirping has been a symphony all afternoon.  They are now divided in  groups of three in the eaves over the door now that dusk has arrived.  How they ever fit in that little nest is one of life's eternal mysteries.  After the morning showers, the roses were trimmed and the gardens spruced.  The scent of the tea roses is fabulous.  One had to come in to grace the kitchen. 


The kennel continues to rock.  Zeus is leading the chorus.  Mason and Scout departed for Digby, each guarding one of the very large and very impressive Best Baby Puppy In Show ribbons that Matilda garnered on the week end.  It appears Chantelle's vehicle needed those to be able to head on vacation.  Good thing little Matilda won big. 


Dinner last evening was a summer delight.  New potatoes, garden spinach, grilled chicken with a peach compote and fruit salad made up a lovely meal.  Earlier in the day there was a blackened chicken pasta with olives and bacon.  Our Ken was pleased.  And on we go.

We are on the mend.  Clint is rebounding nicely, is home and eating well (Our Ken's barometer of dog health is food intake - nothing more - simply food intake).  You, too, are looked askance if you are eating but malingering, if you complain but are able to take nourishment.  So, fair warning.  Clint is, of course, in the den so Lee is able to be with him constantly.  That means his nemesis, Billy the Barking Airedale, is restricted to quarters.  That does not impress Billy greatly; his sense of insult is only made worse by the fact that Clint has pride of place while he languishes in the room next door.  Rocky, too, must be limited since he and Clint are not close, but he doesn't care.  Give Rocky a blanket and the odd milk bone and life is good.  Marguerite is advocating for Billy so feels the need to peer closely at Clint each time she strolls through the room, lifting her lip in an Airedale sneer so plain that poor Clint feels the need to respond in kind.  The dynamics of the house are totally off kilter.  Moving one dog out of his own area makes the whole shooting match a circus. 


The kennel is rocking.  With a gaggle of boarding Welsh of all ages, a newly arrived Doodle, the omnipresent Shadow and a Norwich who should be but is not yet hoarse, even Elton John would be envious of the range of the company.  He would be less impressed by the pitch, I fear.  Generally it is Mason who leads the chorus but that particular little fellow has been planted in number three yard next to the Airedales.  He has developed a lovely circuit to keep the bigger dogs exercised to his satisfaction and has been so busy that he has forgotten to exercise his lungs at the same time.  Score one for Our Ken! 


The little swallows continue to work tirelessly as they feed the brood.  From sun up to sun down any who venture near the kitchen door take their lives in their hands.  The six babies are overflowing the nest.  Flight school cannot be far off.  There are baby doves, baby starlings, baby red wing black birds as well as baby squirrels and chipmunks throughout the property.  Horace the little frog occupies the pond and is enjoying the portulaca, the hosta, dahlias and violets as well as the waterfall.  He is a new resident, named by Ken now that he appears to be more than a vagabond simply passing through.


Dinner included grilled steak, caramelized onions, spinach from the garden and baked potatoes with fresh peach compote over ice cream to round out the sharp edges.  And on we go.

Life is never dull

There are adventures aplenty when a dozen dogs are running your life.  Yesterday was no exception.  Our Ken surfaced from his morning kennel routine with a head shake (not likely ear mites) and the comment that 'we may have a problem'.  Apparently the Tuesday evening gardening session was accompanied by an Airedale flight of fancy.  One of the youngsters managed to unscrew the top from a watering can and pass it off to Clint who likely had asked nicely that this be done.  He has always had a penchant for plastic - considering it a food group, perhaps his favourite.  This little escapade was not shared until Clint refused food on Thursday morning.  Clint is not a food snob.  Watching him through the day, there was every possibility that there was not an issue since there  are girls in season and that can cause food disinclination in even the heartiest of eaters.  However, by dinnertime and another snubbed fancy meal, antennae were twitching.  Chantelle's august presence was requested and she and Lee did an exam.  Nothing conclusive.  Clint was then put in a run, had a good drink of water and promptly flowed downward to rest on his knees.  It was an unusual performance and definitely not normal.  Time to call the Vet.  Interestingly, while the technician agreed that he did need to be seen right away, she also advised that there was no time to see him and he would have to be taken to the emergency clinic when it opened an hour and a half later.  After Lee shook her head (no ear mites there either) she decided that a call to the new 24 hour clinic in the city might be in order.  The word on the street is that Four Paws Veterinary Clinic on Lady Hammond Road is well run and impressive.  The bright young woman at the front desk took a phone history and suggested Clint should come for a visit immediately.  Off went the Regalridgemobile (had there been a mention already that Chantelle was in her lovely pj's?) to the city.  The new clinic is, in a word, fabulous.  It is very well equipped, spotless, busy mid-evening and well staffed.  From reception through exam and radiograph, it was a seamless process with complete client involvement.  Dr Emma is a talented and engaged veterinarian with strong listening and communication skills and diagnostic talent.  She begins with the least invasive processes and moves forward with a sensible plan, keeping her client informed and part of the process at every step.  At no point was there a sense that things were not under control.  In the end, surgery was necessary and still the communication continued with a call at 3:30 am (by Lee's request) to provide outcomes and a full explanation of the surgery.  There was certainly every opportunity to have stayed at the clinic through the full process since the clinic is open 24 hours a day.   The surgery was complicated but successful - the various and sundry pieces of plastic had found their way to interesting spots in Clint's digestive system and are now happily resting in a zip lock bag for reference material as we prepare for Clint's lecture.  Lee has visited, taken him out for a slow walk, managed to get him to drink on his own and to take a mouthful of food.  He remains at the clinic on iv and heavily medicated but we are hopeful that he will be able to come home soon.  And there endeth the day's adventure. 


There has been no sleep.


We are punchy, at best, but soldiering on.