A false alarm – but Flossie had her fun!

This month we had an unexpected visit to the vet.

The week had started without incident and we’d enjoyed one of our usual walks. Flossie had run around in the field, seemingly effortlessly. 

On the way home, I noticed she was walking slowly. She sometimes does this to prolong our time out, so I didn’t think too much of it. 

She settled down in the kitchen and I went upstairs to work at my desk. Some time later, Flossie came upstairs to find me. She was limping. She stared at me with sad eyes and lifted up her front paw. 

I inspected her leg thoroughly. I thought she might have stepped on a thorn or cut herself somehow, but there was no obvious injury. By this stage she wouldn’t put her paw to the ground. 

We now had a problem. 

We were upstairs and she’s too heavy for me to carry downstairs without risking us both breaking several limbs. 

She stood at the top of the stairs looking helpless. I had to grit my teeth and call her, encouraging her to come down by herself. After all, she’d got herself up there under her own steam. She eventually made it down on three legs, with an accusing stare, and flopped dramatically onto her bed. 

I hoped it was a pulled muscle that would right itself after resting overnight, but by the next morning, there was no change. 

I made an appointment at the vets.

I wondered how I would get her into the car. I needn’t have worried. As soon as I had made the appointment, she seemed to improve. She walked out to the car as normal and hopped up into the boot.

When we arrived at the vets, she trotted in with no sign of a limp. I’d made quite a fuss on the phone about how she could hardly walk. 

The vet examined her. There was nothing wrong with her.

I’m sure Flossie grinned at me.

I paid the bill, we left, and came home. 

As published in the Bath Chronicle, 23 February 2023