I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I tossed, turned and generally stayed awake, worrying about Freya. Today she was due to have her dental procedure and, obviously, I was worried about her surviving the operation.

My fears were not without foundation. We have had four different vets, across two different countries, give four differing opinions on how to proceed with her teeth. One was concerned because of a heart murmur, another couldn’t find anything wrong with her heart, another was more worried about her back legs, and so on it went.

Finally, though, we bit the bullet, and she was booked in for an operation today. Only, it never happened.

Just after I returned home from my trip to Waitrose, the vet rang to say she had an awful migraine and could we rearrange Freya’s procedure for another time. Please. She sounded terrible. How could I say no?

The upshot of this was a rescheduling to next Thursday. A stay of execution, if you will. If only Freya knew what had been in store but she remained blissfully unaware.

While I look forward to another sleepless night of worry next Wednesday.

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