These vets then. How many years is it they train? Ages and ages anyway.
So you'd think they'd come up with some good ideas when you tell them your skin's all itchy. I mean, I've had so many interesting suggestions from my bloggie pals this week.
In fact, I devised my own treatment plan, based on all your kind comments to my last post.
Hamish skin cure (courtesy of dogs-with-blogs)
As my paws are sore, I need to be taken everywhere in a bicycle basket, like Petey, which means also that I shall be out in the open air and so can more easily receive all those good vibes, get well energies, extra healing smoochies etc. (The ones sent from over the Pond or below the equator may be a little weak by the time they reach Eastern Scotland).
My first stop will be with new pal Eric Square Dog in London, where together we will sip eighteen year old Macallan whisky, wear knotted hankerchiefs on our heads to reinforce our 'old buffer' status, and perhaps take up Hoover's suggestion and wallow in a soothing bath of porridge. (If only Gail had Petey's Mom's artistic abilities - but you will just have to imagine the scene).
Next stop will be at dear friends Martha and Bailey Basset, as I understand they have arranged to win the lottery and kindly offered to share some of the money with Gail so she no longer has to go to that horrid 'work'.
Then there is some special healing cream stuff to pick up from Ludo.
We shall steer clear of the acupuncturist though (sorry Lisa). I mean, that's like being vaccinated, but a hundred times over all at once surely?
Last but not least, we shall visit with Stella, 'cos she is so lovely, and I just know that if I could spend time with her, I would feel much, much better right away.
So. Sounds pretty good, my plan, right? Why on earth then did the vet just give me all these boring old pills....