Where's Whisky

Hey everyone! Just dropping by with an update on my little fluffy boy.

As soon as I was back from my week away for work, I whisked Whisky off to the vets for an appointment to remove the last of his stitches. However, when the stitches came out, allowing the vet to remove the scabby bits they were holding on, things were not looking good underneath. Another infection, despite all the antibiotics we'd been dosing him with since the ear operation. So my poor little boy, still terrified of the vets following all that painful surgery, was readmitted to spend more days under veterinary care. He had to have the re-opened wound regularly cleaned and flushed, plus daily injections of more antibiotics.

Given his newly elevated fear of the vets, I was not entirely surprised to hear when I called for an update the following day that he was not eating voluntarily. He was almost certainly very scared of what he was in for this time. The nurses were having to syringe feed him and dose him up with gut motility meds just to keep things moving through his digestive system.

So I spent the week harassing them with daily phone calls to see how he was getting on and suggesting different things to try to cheer him up. The good news was that as the week went on he started to relax more as well as start to heal. By Friday he was ready to come home, so I raced over there as soon as I could to pick him up.

Back at home he was very quickly pleased to be in his own environment with more freedom and space. He raced around the house, chomped at some hay and snacks, had a little rest on his blanket - a very happy little Whisky. Happy, that is, as long as I went nowhere near him, otherwise he would just run and hide under the benches in his room.

"Yeah right, OF COURSE you haven't come to give me more medicine or stuff me back in the carrier, why WOULDN'T I believe you. Just put some snacks on the floor and back away."

The only communication I got from him was when he decided he wanted to go out in the garden to play and pestered me to open the back door. Again, he was very happy as long as I stayed out of the garden and left him to it - he had a wonderful time binkying and racing about on his own.

"You! Stay in the house! I'm about to attempt a flying 180 degree binky and I don't want your smelly butt in my way."

Trust is growing slowly with each meal or snack I bring him and he seems very happy in himself. In terms of his health, we still have a way to go on this, so I am not counting any chickens yet. For now I am just going to enjoy watching him play his little games.

"Games? I'm creating art. I call it 'Human Know Your Place'."

"Nearly done..."

Thanks Whisky, I think I got that one. I'll go get the snack tub.