A sick boy

Poor Fergus is feeling rather sorry for himself this weekend. He had to submit to a dental operation yesterday. As the result of an infected tooth, and a couple of other dubious ones, the vet recommended a thorough going over in the dental department. Not only did the tooth in question (a large canine) have to be extracted, but a couple of others as well. A typical male invalid I have to say - in other words a drama queen. We have been subjected to many mournful "poor me" expressions, however suffice to say when food is in the offing a remarkable transformation takes place - in fact he had only just returned home from the surgery when he managed to scoff down his dinner at the speed of light and then look for more, before re-assuming the patient posture once he realised no more would be forthcoming! What remains of his teeth are now sparkling white however and his breath is nice and fragrant once more, although mother will be paying the bill off the credit card for some time to come I fear.