The bad news is that Sid has done the unthinkable: he’s hurt his single back leg, and now he won’t bear any weight on it.

He has spent the last two days lying in one spot, occasionally sucking down water brought to him in a silver stainless steel dish by one of his servants (usually me), refusing food, and resisting all attempts to encourage him to stand.

The first day he was clearly in a huge amount of pain. There was a lot of panting, wrinkling of brows, and shaking like a leaf.

To go back a step, he got himself under our recliners while we were both watching TV – his bum under OH’s footrest and his head under mine.  This meant that neither of us could get up without hurting him, and quite possibly taking out a kidney.  OH thought that, since I had the head, it would be better for him to try gently lowering his footrest first.  Sadly, it stuck a bit and then jerked and hit Sid on the leg, which made him jump.  This brought his head out from under me and I got down and pulled him clear of OH’s chair. All seemed fine, and he went for his walk as usual.

Next morning, it became clear that all was not fine.

When I got up, he’d vomited copiously, and also pooped on the mat by the back door.  He was now lying where he would stay for the next twelve hours, immobile except for the violent tremors and the panting. Not eating, but drinking large amounts.

The picture up there was taken during that period when he was so thirsty he was actually resting between drinks with his chin propped on the water bowl.  After I took that picture, I removed the bowl to ration him so he wouldn’t throw up again, and moved him to the lounge where it’s warmer.

We took him to the vet, who examined him and said he thought it was that back leg, and that his neck and spine seemed fine.  He couldn’t tell whether his shoulders were giving him trouble as well, because he couldn’t see him walking, but he gave him an intravenous painkiller and sent us home with some tablets of the same.  He said he thought he’d be much improved by ‘midday today’.

He was not.  We went back to the vet today, got another painkilling injection and some different tablets, and we are now pretty sure that it is the hind leg and that it’s muscular. Or ligament. Probably not bone, anyway, which is good.

So now, here he is, back on his bed in the lounge, still not eating much, drinking a lot less because he’s panting hardly at all, and he’s looking a lot more comfortable .. but he’s still not getting up and supporting himself.  He’ll still be in the same position when I get up tomorrow morning, I shouldn’t wonder.

Meanwhile, Jeffie has taken on the role of Helper and Protector.  ‘Helper’ means he dances alongside and in front of us whenever we try to move Sid, thus making our endeavors three times as difficult, and he lies down as close to Sid as he possibly can, either to give him comfort, or to comfort himself, I’m not sure which.

He has also barked ferociously at the front door three times this evening, apparently for nothing.  Well… I say nothing, but in fact the holly wreath which is tied onto the knocker on the front door was swinging around and making the door knocker rattle, because (as OH just informed me) it is ‘chucking it down with wind out there!’.  Jeffie, however, thinks there’s a series of would-be axe-murderers and dog-injurers on the doorstep, taking turns to try to unscrew the hinges on the front door.  In the end I asked OH to take the wreath down.

He went out to do it, and after much muttered swearing and banging about, he came back in and asked:

‘Is this real holly?’

‘Yes!’ I answered.

‘Well, you could have warned me!’, he said.

I did.  I’m 100% sure I told him it was real holly.  I was so pleased to find a real holly wreath with actual berries on it, that I’m pretty sure I told everyone within a two mile radius.  Probably half of Cambridgeshire knows.  Anyway, he took it down, and brought it in and put it on the bottom stair, where it sat, looking festive.

I asked him to move it.

‘If you leave it there, Jeffie will lose an eye’, I said. ‘You know what he’s like.’

I don’t know where the wreath is now, but it’s not on the bottom step.  The thought of even higher vet bills galvanised my poor husband into action.

UPDATE:  Sid has now managed to heave himself to his feet all by himself!  He collapsed halfway through the pee walk, but it’s a start!  Maybe he’ll eat breakfast, too.