Balls to the wall...

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'Now you come to mention it, I've never seen a chubby schnauzer'...

Such was the reassurance from the vet when I asked him about possible side effects of Reg's castration at his post op check up on Saturday afternoon.  The thing is, Reg has always been as thin as thin could be, so if he starts to put on a bit of extra lumber, it won't be so terrible. Perhaps this is what puts me off encouraging the husband to have the same procedure...

After three days of wear, the onesie has started to look like it's seen better days, so I decided to give it a wash on Saturday after our last walk of the day.  Stupidly, instead of sticking it on a twenty minute quick wash, I managed to press the button for those clothes which, 'need beating within an inch of their life to get the filth out'.  

This meant that most of Saturday evening was spent shouting, 'Stop licking your balls, Reg!'.  Of course, because everything was on show, Percy started taking rather an unhealthy interest in Reg and his undercarriage.  The shouts from the sofa were soon adjusted to, 'Percy, stop licking Reg's balls' while I hurriedly moved the onesie around the radiator trying to get it dry.

Lesson number one...always buy two onesies when the vet suggests it...

Getting back from the vet's, the husband, who is still dragging his left leg like Long John Silver, gave me one of his most pathetic looks.  'Will you take me for a McDonalds?'

Sitting in our local Golden Arches half an hour later, the husband suggested to me that this was becoming rather too regular. After much discussion over our chicken selects and milkshakes, the general consensus was that we were last there around six weeks ago.

So shoot me....

After the last few weeks we've had, if we were there every day it would be OK...


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