We Are All Old Now

I thought that when old Roy died that life with just two dogs, two cats and two pigs might be easier. I thought wrong. Roy might have been the oldest codger in town but he wasn’t the only one.

For Holly de Cat is thirteen and Big Fat Fred just a year younger. Judy will be ten in the summer and Jess eight in October. Rusty and Lily are ten this year too. They must be two of the oldest pigs in County Antrim. Bert and I both have our bus passes. Nellybert’s is no longer a Party House. We’re a Retirement Home!

Reason for this moan? I am rudely awakened every morning by the dogs needing to go pee. This morning it was six o’clock when Jess was headbutting my bedroom door. Then, when Big Fat Fred sees me he makes it clear he is ready for breakfast so I give him a little something in his bowl and return to bed for horrible anxiety dreams.* When Fred has finished eating he stands at the bottom of the stairs and gowls to be let into my private, secret sitting room. I prefer to keep that room closed as a dog (probably Judy) has a liking for peeing on my antique carpet.

Although Judy has been having fewer ‘accidents’ since the vet put her on the amazing tightening up the urethra drug. It’s also noticeable that her coat is glossier and she seems to have more energy. I’m seriously considering taking this medication myself as I too would benefit from a glossy mane, extra energy and a better functioning urethra.

The oldest pigs in the parish

*This morning's anxiety dream was all about Zoe having coronavirus and Bert and his friends using my best vintage china for ashtrays.