This morning was Carmen’s first post-op appointment with the vet. As Mirinda is staying in town this weekend, I had to think how to transport Carmen. After carrying her home last time and realising what a heavy lump she is, I decided this wasn’t for me. Mirinda suggested a taxi for the trip of two blocks but I opted for a wheelbarrow.
So, at about 8:30, I wrestled the barrow through the house (there wasn’t room to go around Sidney) and settled it by the front door. I grabbed Carmen’s blanket from her basket (realising it seriously needed a wash) and made a lovely little nest, covering the rusty bits.
Day-z stood in the doorway wondering what was going on. I patted her quizzical head as I went back into the house to get their leads. Day-z changed instantly as I reached for the leads.
Successfully attached to their leads, I picked up the patient and carefully placed her in the middle of the barrow. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes. Day-z stood to one side totally confused. This had never happened before.
That’s not exactly true. I’ve tried to wheel them around the garden before but they always jump out almost instantly. Perhaps Day-z was confused because Carmen stayed put.
I then took the handles of the barrow and slowly made my way up the street, a petrified Carmen not filling me with confidence.
It’s not the easiest thing the world to push a wheelbarrow full of Carmen, with my recovering broken wrist and a confused Day-z trying her best to wind her lead around my legs.
We had some well meant commiserations wished upon us by a couple of separate dog walkers as if we were the very essence of normalcy. All the way to (and from) the vet, no-one stared, laughed or yelled stupid things at us. It was vaguely disappointing.
I parked up at the vet and carried her into reception where we sat and waited. In short, the vet was very happy with Carmen’s progress and she is now booked in to have her stitches out Monday week. Until then, I am to take her for five minute walks up and down the path, getting her to start using the leg.
I told her about Carmen biting off her bandage and that she’d need a bucket for her head, which she organised for me. I think she looks quite Tudor-esque.
The vet was very happy we have a path, rather than a muddy track. I told her it was an amazing path; a beautiful path. Which reminds me, as Mirinda commented yesterday, the plumber asked if he could walk up and down the path while waiting for his cement to dry. He loved it. And why wouldn’t he? It’s a magical path…after all.
Speaking of yesterday’s marathon post…I woke up with aching left hand fingers today. The reason was I’d not realised but my left hand had decided to start typing, pushing my right hand away from its side of the keyboard. Obviously they’d over worked themselves.
Meanwhile, back at the wheelbarrow…The trip back was, sadly, as uneventful as the trip there and we were soon home.
After lifting Carmen out and settling her on the lounge, I put her blanket in the washing machine. The washing machine was so disgusted it threw the blanket back out. It took a lot of coaxing to get it to take it but take it, it did.
The rest of the day was basically giving Carmen five minute walks up and down the path in between moments of medication…hers, not mine.
I did turn a corner tonight with regards to my broken wrist. I actually prepared a meal. My salmon with avocado crust. It turned out perfectly. I feel a great surge of accomplishment.
Of course, there was a point during the day that the three of us sat at the back door waiting for birds. There were many blue tits and gold finches, flashing in and out, grabbing seeds, dropping seeds but this one was my favourite.
He came in on too low a trajectory and almost came a-cropper, his claws just managing to grab the perch. I managed to catch him just before he stood upright.
I should confess to my wife that I used the RSPCA bird identification site to work out what Mrs Chaffinch was. I went through quite a few birds before I reached the correct one. I was tempted to say it was a dunnock…