In remembrance of times past

Ann and MA when first we met

Yesterday, we had a final vet visit to sign Byron off. He is much improved, and reacted with indignity rather than indifference when she shoved the thermometer up his bum to check his temperature. If it's not the dogs needing attention, it is ourselves, reminders of the passing years. I attended my appointment with the Chiropodist this week, and then Ann had a routine blood test. 

The Chiropodists are a happy family group in Haverhill who kept going through two years of lockdowns. We were chatting about the recession, and how it affected her business. Carol has been forced to raise prices for home care because of the rising fuel costs, but has not increased her charges for those of us still able to walk in, on the Tesco principle of "pile it high and sell it cheap!" She prefers to keep a high footfall at small margins rather than the diminishing returns of increasing her fees, but getting fewer customers. It is a lesson our chancellor should learn in relation to taxing the country. Higher taxes do not equate with greater revenue. Carol went to one lady and said, "that will be thirty pounds." The lady said, is that per foot? Apparently, she had had one home-care chiropodist who charged per foot rather than per visit. If Carol's costs continue to rise with massive inflation, she might be reduced to charging per toe.

How we were - more than 30 years ago

I have been looking at some old photos of myself and Ann from over 30 years ago. How the days have flown - we were so youthful and full of hope. We have done many wonderful things together, including running our poetry magazine, Exile, starting a dating agency, Avalon, getting married and having Edwin, home-schooling him, and moving house a number of times. We have travelled widely and visited many great countries, including our own when we had a caravan. It has been a good life, mostly in harmony and without rancour, and a privilege to have shared it with such a wonderful, imaginative and resourceful person, who could always be relied on to have her "contingencies" whenever things went pear-shaped. Now she is still there, a huge support and strength as my own fades. Our ambitions now are more limited, but not yet completely absent, and we hope to do a little more between us before the day is done.

Byron is ill, and an old friend is remembered

Edwin comes to nurse Byron

Byron has been very ill. We went to Kent for a few days last week after Ann's birthday. Alas, on Friday, the hottest day of the year thus far when temperatures reached 33C, he seemed to collapse, vomiting and weak. By Tuesday, when he showed little sign of improvement, Edwin came over to help take him to the vets. They suggested one or two things and started some treatment but next day, seeing no improvement, we took him again. This time, he spent the whole day there being X-rayed and ultrasound scanned. They didn't find a lot, but said he had a mild temperature and was too fat. They started him on antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, and prescribed an expensive low-fat diet.

Today, he does seem much better. Ann had her glaucoma check-up in Bury-St-Edmunds this afternoon, and we returned to his loud bark and greeting, and knew things must be improving. He is eating well again, and even went on a short walk in the cool of the evening. It is incredible how much one misses the presence of a dog when they're not there, or are just lying listless. Encouraged by this, we are cutting out all treats and extras for the dogs and vow not to feed them any titbits from the table. The only sign now of his illness is a completely shorn tummy.

Last month, a good friend and former colleague of mine, Dr John Carter, died. I used to work as a locum in the Clare practice, and we always enjoyed a regular three-hour lunch at the expense of a drug rep, in the days when that was considered normal. They were initially held in the Bell, but this began to decline even twenty-five years ago, so we transferred to The Bull in Cavendish. John had an enormous fund of stories about the dear people of Clare, but also had helped found The Nethergate Brewery, then in Clare. He used to take an annual trip to some small family vineyards in France to buy their year's vintage for the people he supplied. On Saturday we were invited to celebrate his life in the garden of his home. Alas, Ann felt she couldn't leave Byron so didn't go, but it was a big crowd. They had commandeered a farmer's field opposite the house, to take the many cars, and had a large team of caterers to supply a wonderful assortment of nibbles and wines, so John had a good remembrance.