Poor Benji

Did you ever see such a sad face?  He makes me feel so guilty when he looks at me like that, pleading with me to take this horrible cone off, but it has to stay on at least until Wednesday when we go back to the vet.  It's to stop him reaching his tail and chewing at it - that's what started this course of action.
Overnight he had made a real mess of his tail which necessitated the trip to the vet, where he had to undergo a thorough cleaning, antiseptic spray and the indignity of being muzzled and held by one vet assistant while the vet did the deed.   It was obviously very painful and he protested loudly. I had been sent out to the waiting room and was cringing at the howls.  I'm not looking forward to taking him back on Wednesday!
While he was adjusting to 'life with a cone' yesterday, he was crashing into chair legs (I've now moved the furniture around to give him more turning space) and finding it difficult to assess the gap through the partially opened doorways (now with wider gaps!)
After a failed attempt at jumping up on to his sofa, he simply stood with head hanging down, the picture of misery -

Last night wasn't too bad; I heard the clatter as he moved around a couple of times, but then settled, probably through sheer exhaustion.  He didn't get up until 9am and was immediately ready for his breakfast.  Usually it's just a complete food biscuit breakfast but today I mixed in some meat and veg in gravy, cunningly hiding an antibiotic tablet within.  He scoffed the lot, no problem. To encourage him to drink I put some water in his bowl and added the tiniest few drops of milk - while he watched eagerly - and he drank it all up.  Yessss!
He has now perfected the art of jumping up on to the sofa or pouffe and his assessment of gaps has improved.  So now he's sitting on the pouffe, resting his cone-encased head on the windowsill, watching out for invaders . . . well, anyone who wanders past the house.  But not barking at them as usual;  he's just not in the mood for all that effort.

Looking back

I've been watching "The Crown" on Netflix in recent weeks, in fact I've watched all 3 seasons to the end.  It's very addictive, I found. And it amazed me that I knew so little about our recent history.  While at school we were taught about the Henrys, the Charles', the Marys, the Georges and all those fascinating tales of bygone Royalty and their doings, once I left school I seemed to be largely unaware of what was going on in the present.  So as I watched "The Crown" I found myself pausing the action while I Googled for more information - and the memories came flooding back.
In the 1970s I clearly remember the Miners' Strike and the 3 Day weeks, the days without electricity, the power cuts even on days when we were supposed to have electricity, the shortage of many foodstuffs and the awful struggle to survive on wages that were slashed drastically by being unable to work because we were laid off.  Inflation was at an all-time high and the government decided to cap wages.
My marriage had ended in divorce and I was bringing up my young son on my own. There were no luxuries.  I didn't have a TV so we read books or played games (if there was enough light!); washing was done in the copper in the kitchen and my Mum's old dolly tub and puncher, along with the big wooden-rollered mangle all came in very useful. Carpets and floors were cleaned with a stiff brush or mopped. Our coalman had no coal to sell, so we were without any heat -  we wrapped up in extra clothes and blankets and went to bed early.
We lived in a council house and I recalled hiding and keeping quiet some weeks when the rent-man was due to call; the arrears took an age to clear once I was able to go back to full time work and I was terrified that we would lose our home.
The Good Old Days, eh?
More to follow another day, if anyone's interested.
Is anyone else watching "The Crown"?

I'm back in business - hopefully.

For 7 months I haven't had the ability to transfer photographs from my camera to my laptop and thence to my blog,  so huge apologies for my absence.  I think I'm now set up again; I sincerely hope so.  Photo quality may not be all it should be as I haven't figured out how to edit them yet - it's a learning curve!

So for now, can I introduce you to Flora?  Flora lives close to Seaton Country Park and every day she comes down from her home with a bag of duck food and another bag of food for the seagulls. The ducks start to emerge from the river and waddle across the grass to the bench where Flora sets her bag down at about 3.30pm.  The seagulls appear from above, screeching and flapping to get their share of the food and settle around her feet.  

Flora lifts the seagull food out of her little trolley.

The amazing thing about this is that having received their allocation of food, the seagulls, who would normally pester and screech for more, seem satisfied and simply fly away, leaving Flora to walk away quietly wth her ducks!

As she walks  along, she is making a hole in one corner of the duck food bag -

- so that she can pour a line of food on the ground, enabling all the ducks to eat without fighting 

over one single heap. All very civilised - and n.ot a seagull in sight

Bag emptied and job done for Flora.  Until the next day at 3.30pm.