Anyway, so that's what my week has been about. And if that wasn't enough, Naughty George decided to embark upon a campaign of continual low-level naughtiness. Take this morning for instance.
I came downstairs to find him dragging his bum around the floor with his front legs. Normally this comical sight would provoke much hilarity from me, but this time he was doing it on my 100% wool Marks and Spencers rug, with a dopey-happy look on his face. The git had dimwittedly turned my favourite rug into the most expensive toilet paper known to dog.
[Interesting fact. Today I learnt that there is actually a verb to describe dogs dragging their bums across the floor. It is called scooting. How cool?]
Pic.No.1. A dog scooting. In order to spare Naughty George's blushes, a body double is depicted
So after I had finished disinfecting my rug and scrubbing out all the doggy skid-marks, I concluded that NG had probably contracted worms because he is rather partial to eating rotting meat out of my neighbour's bins.
There was only one thing for it: A trip to the Pet Shop to buy some worming tablets.
Everything seemed to go swimmingly, except that I got it wrong and accidentally bought worming powder.
As soon as I got home and realised my mistake, my heart sank. NG is not the easiest of dogs to administer medicine to. In fact the only success I have ever had was using pills. I would wrap them up in a slice of ham and he would gulp them down in one go. Except this time I didn't have pills. All I had was worming powder to save my rug from doggy dirt protests.
So I came up with a cunning plan. I made a sandwich with thick slices of turkey, and poured the powder inside. I cut the sandwich in half and waved it in front of NG's face. He went ballistic and excitedly grabbed the half-sandwich from my hand. But instead of wolfing it down, he dropped it carefully onto the floor and sniffed around it.
Then, ever so deftly, he pulled the top layer of bread off, picked up the turkey slice with his front teeth and then shook it around the kitchen to get rid of the powder.
What an absolute git! So not only did NG end up full of turkey sans worming powder, but my kitchen resembled a cocaine den. And to add insult to injury, the worming powder cost £6.10. That mutt has a lot to answer for.
P.S. I haven't forgotten to do my post about the next 5 blog award winners. It is coming soon to a blog near you!