It's a Dogs Life part 2

Jaquenetta German Shepherd Dogs

It's a Dogs Life !

Have I been through a traumatic experience since I last put paw to keyboard.

( Squawk had to purchase a word-processor for her writing, after I ruined her typewriter by chewing bits off of it. She bought it on the way back from collecting the German bitch from quarantine. Next morning being bored while we were all upstairs, she managed to get into the room where the brand new wp was and chewed the keyboard; completely annihilated the CAN, EXCH/FIND, LINE/EOL, keys and left toothmarks in the rest. A girl after my own heart, she’ll fit in alright. Just as well for her she chose Squawk’s wp and not Growler’s computer which was in the same room, or she could have found herself on the next plane home).

Anyway to continue, I live in the house with three bitches, they came into season consecutively. I was hyped up for about two months as I am not allowed to mate with them; because I am not the right type for two of them and the one I like best hasn’t got very good hips. I lost weight and must admit felt awful. So the humans decided it would be better for my nerves and my health if I had my puppy making equipment removed. Without consulting me they made an appointment with the vet and the next thing I remember is the vet saying, “Normally he would have to stay overnight as he hasn’t come round fully yet, but I know you’ll look after him properly so he can go home with you.”

The humans kept inspecting my wound. After a couple of days Squawk exclaimed “I thought empty testicle bag shrunk, it’s getting bigger”. They rang the vet to enquire of him if something was wrong. I was taken back to the surgery. The vet examined my enlarged scrotum, smiled and commented “Under other circumstances you could enter him in the Guiness Book of Records”. That’s all I need in my time of suffering – a vet with a sense of humour. The vet that did the operation had been trying out a new method of removing the testicles; it had been successful thus far. I couldn’t quite understand what had happened, but the jist of it was that what was supposed to have drained out drained in instead. My humans were given tablets for me, one lot to get rid of the build-up of fluid and the other to prevent an infection; we had to go back every other day. The scrotum swelled up until its skin was paper thin, then this cracked in several places and sticky fluid seeped out. I had difficulty walking with something the size of a melon swinging between my back legs. Squawk followed me about with a roll of kitchen towel, every time I sat down she would surround it with mounds of paper to mop up the discharge. I had a heck of a job to get up the stairs at night, they are very steep. I had to be careful not to knock it on the steps, and as my centre of gravity was concentrated in the balloon between my back legs, I had to be careful I didn’t topple back down again. When I sat down Squawk said I reminded her of a mother hen settling on to her nestful of eggs. Very funny! Eventually to my relief my scrotum shrank to the size it should be after an operation like mine. The odd thing is my coat has changed colour. I was very black from nose to tail with tan legs. Now the black has begun breaking up with gold and the tan has turned golden. Is it my age or is it the change in my hormones?

To add insult to injury one of the bitches had been mated, and I had to tolerate a houseful of little brats that were nothing to do with me. It’s a dog’s life!

Copyright J C Hiscox

Previously published in the GSD National Magazine Jul 1996

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