In pain!

Yesterday's antics by the gang were a little rough on Baggy Body! Up early and with Furry Mama on the beach by 9.00am. An hour-and-something throwing Pepper Pooch's ball on a chilly day. Grotty Groom grooming her two extremely hairy, dirty horses, particularly under their big smelly bellies, for an hour-and-something. And possibly the worst culprit, Creative Clara sitting scrunched on her two laptops for the best part of five hours, attempting to publish yesterday's blog - 'The ****ing irony' - sorry Baggees, but it warranted a strong swear word.

Baggy is right-handed, so all of this was done using her right arm and hand. It is also the side of the collar bone that Grotty Groom shattered into a snowflake thirteen years ago, and the cold is getting into it! As a result, by the time she went up to bed, she could barely move her neck or right shoulder. It was indeed so painful, that at 1.30am she had to get up and take some Ibuprofen. Yeah Clever Bird knows that Baggy was 'banned' from taking it any more, but she was in agony. It didn't really do much, but at least she managed to get back to sleep. An extremely restless, uncomfortable sleep.

Today it's really not much better, so Clever Bird decided that Baggy shouldn't drive - Billy Bob Jalopy requires super human strength to turn the wheel. In addition she decided that Furry Mama should not throw the pooch his ball. Hmmmmm. Freda Fretter wondered whether that meant that Furry Mama should keep him on the lead. But that wouldn't help, as then Baggy would be pulled along. Clever Bird decided that she should risk walking him, off the lead, without a ball. Silly as it sounds, this would be a first! Since the boy joined their lives, after he took off on their very first walk together, Pepper has had his total focus on the ball, much to Freda's relief. Just in case, it all went horribly wrong, Clever Bird hid a tennis ball in Baggy's pocket.

Baggy got hauled up the lane and was almost in tears from the pain, so let the pooch off the lead. He instantly shot off, then ran back to Furry Mama to throw his ball. She didn't, so he jumped on her. This annoying routine carried on for five or ten minutes.
'Come on Mum, throw the ball.'
'No. Walk like a normal dog.'
'Mum, come ON.'
'No. Just go.'
'But.....'
'Just go!'

Eventually he discovered how to 'dog'. Trotting, sniffing, exploring, following scents, even being a proper boy dog and marking his territory - well, like a big girl puppy; no leg lifting for the pooch, but still, it was pleasant. Best of all, he didn't run off. Phew!

 

It was a pleasure to watch, and also for Baggy to be able to walk and enjoy the stunning frost, without having to constantly bend down to pick up a ball.

Of course, there's always a downside! Pepper was not even vaguely worn out. This is as they got back to the back of their garden:

As this video finished, the pooch decided to worry Freda Fretter by shooting off straight down the (still unfenced), new piece of land! He appeared to be heading back to the lake, but Furry Mama called him, 'What's this?' and produced her emergency tennis ball! It worked.

And you're right Baggees, Clara shouldn't be typing, but Baggy can't do a lot else today, and at least she's doing it with a heated oat-thingummy on her shoulder.........

Note to readers (my lovely Baggees): For the avoidance of any doubt - every character in this blog is me!!! No Baggy was harmed in its writing.

Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Yellow.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 3. 
Tears: Hidden ones.
Baggy: 212.