We have had something of a dental theme to this isolation.
Oliver lost his last milk tooth in the middle of dinner one night. He discovered that regrettably the Tooth Fairy does not qualify as a Key Worker and could not drop round to retrieve it from under his pillow during her night shift. Instead of the usual two pound coin he had to make do with a vague and probably untruthful assurance that eventually our circumstances would improve and everything he needed would materialise. This works for the Government and so I saw no reason why I should not adopt the same approach.
Lucy has got wisdom teeth coming through, and is suddenly in deepest sympathy with all babies everywhere. We have applied drugs to this particular problem, in copious quantities. These are working very nicely, and are also making her feel very quietly contented about life.
The most recent, and also terrible sufferer from dental problems, was the dog.
We had noticed an unpleasant odour emanating from him.
This is nothing unusual, he is a dog, and unpleasant odours are something of a running theme with him.
This one was a horribly unpleasant odour, and last night we traced it to a rotten tooth in the side of his mouth.
We knew that he had some tooth decay, because the vet mentioned it last time we saw her. Rather than brave a possibly unnecessary general anaesthetic, which is always a bit dodgy when you are an elderly dog with a malfunctioning heart, he has been self-medicating by chewing up firewood all over the living room carpet.
When we looked at him we realised that he has been a bit under the weather lately. He has been a bit slower and less waggy than usual, not very keen on getting off his cushion, especially first thing in the morning, although we all sympathised with him about that, none of us are getting any younger.
The tooth was horrible.
It was black and loose, and actually squishy in places. We thought that probably something should be done quite quickly.
He is a very patient dog.
He sat on my knee, and Mark pulled it out.
Mark has not been a farmer for all of these years for nothing, and it was over in less than a second. It was so unexpected that the dog did not see it coming at all, and did not need to growl or bite or become disgruntled. Mark said that it was so loose it practically fell out, so he must have been chewing quite hard on the firewood.
When we looked the hole was pink and clean, so his head had not started to rot away underneath it.
This morning he was quite a different dog. He bounced down the stairs happily and had a fight with Roger Poopy, which is an activity he has been avoiding for a while. Also he smelled no more awful than he is supposed to, which is always fairly awful, he is a very old dog.
I am pleased to announce that he looks as though he will be around for some time to come.
I am going to cut this short soon because of wanting to watch the National Theatre on YouTube. They are putting on entertainment for the masses at seven o’clock. We are going to stop our daily activities and watch it.
It has been a busy day. Mark has been connecting up the pipes for the underfloor heating in the conservatory, and I have been planting things in the flower bed. I have moved all of the hyacinths in there. They were out in the garden where I could not smell them, and although mostly they have finished for this year they will come back next year, and be a lovely surprise because I will have forgotten by then.
A picture is attached.
