|Murphy takes over Tim´s favourite place in the world|
Yesterday, having drawn water for various mundane purposes, like washing the crap off dogs, I went up the yard to hew wood.
We do that kind of rurally whimsical stuff at The Peacable.
Murphy was curled up in the woodshed, just where any falling log I was sawing would bean him, so I suggested he move. He didn't, he couldn't, and he gave an agonised yowl when I tried to pick him up.
Yes, he'd managed to get himself run over again, making twice.
The first time was about two years back, resulting in three broken legs, extensive surgery by The Veterinary School of Leon University, and ultimately a starring role in a movie entitled, "How To Mend A Cat's Three Broken Legs When No Expense Is Spared," produced and directed by Dr. Mateo, and financed by the Scott-O'Gara Non-Profit Foundation, and which, it seems, did boffo biz, playing to packed houses of student vets in Italy.
Murph has, of yet, received no residuals.
This time round, although expecting the worst - it seemed to us his back was broken - things are not quite so bad.
Murph's back is inded very badly knocked about, but our local vet thinks that he (Murph, that is, not the Vet) might be back on his already battered feet within a week.
Not doing triple saltos, with tuck and twist, but at least tottering about and bullying the dogs.
He has already comandeered Tim's dog bed to recuperate in, beside the stove.
Tim made no complaint, just patiently shifted over onto the carpet to sleep.
He is an amazing, saintly dog, because he loves his bed second only to sausage.
It's high time Murphy considered giving up being run over by cars.
It's not doing him any good.