We're delighted to report that Dijon's spark has returned. This morning
he is acting more like his usual self. Skipping, head shaking, sniffing
around as if he means it rather than just going through the actions.
So, the trip to the vet seems to have done the trick.
It's a bit cooler here now - it was around 32C last week. Dijon doesn't
enjoy the heat - he's such a muscular bloke of a bun, but Mabel
doesn't seem to mind. She's very slight in build, and we think she
feels the cold in winter, so has been happy with the sunshine.
She's always appeared to be such a good, quiet, timid little thing... until recently. In the evening, the buns are allowed into 'our' side of the living room. My husband sits on the sofa, and I sit on the armchair... yes, the buns have driven a wedge between us, as Dijon demands his cuddles at the side of the armchair. Not so long ago, Mabel discovered the sofa, and then she discovered that, if she hopped across my husband and onto that arm, she could reach the telephone table.
So now she is on a mission. Every evening, she develops a crazed look in her eyes, and sits by the sofa on her haunches, ready for take-off. Just when she looks ready to leap, she usually races off, doing a couple of laps of the living room, complete with mad binkies, then skids to a halt by the sofa, on her hind legs, front paws dangling.
Then thump and leap, a bit like a paso doble, she springs vertically, lands on the cushion, and usually sets about scrabbling husband's arm and side to move him. He tickles her, she springs down, and the whole process starts again!
Meanwhile, Dijon sits looking either confused or scared!
She's always appeared to be such a good, quiet, timid little thing... until recently. In the evening, the buns are allowed into 'our' side of the living room. My husband sits on the sofa, and I sit on the armchair... yes, the buns have driven a wedge between us, as Dijon demands his cuddles at the side of the armchair. Not so long ago, Mabel discovered the sofa, and then she discovered that, if she hopped across my husband and onto that arm, she could reach the telephone table.
So now she is on a mission. Every evening, she develops a crazed look in her eyes, and sits by the sofa on her haunches, ready for take-off. Just when she looks ready to leap, she usually races off, doing a couple of laps of the living room, complete with mad binkies, then skids to a halt by the sofa, on her hind legs, front paws dangling.
Then thump and leap, a bit like a paso doble, she springs vertically, lands on the cushion, and usually sets about scrabbling husband's arm and side to move him. He tickles her, she springs down, and the whole process starts again!
Meanwhile, Dijon sits looking either confused or scared!