Yesterday must have been the hottest day of the year here in Hampshire, UK.
It was unbearably hot as we walked to the car to fetch Milo from the Vets, but inside the car was like an oven. Within minutes, I could feel the skin on my arms begin to burn. We would need to drive with all the windows open to get rid of some of this heat before we picked Milo up.
The veterinary surgery is beautifully air-conditioned, and I knew I would have to be dragged outside screaming to get back in that car.
They were very busy, with lots of comings and goings with animals of every shape and size. There was also sadness about the place and activity in the special room that is usually reserved for sad occasions. It only seems like yesterday when we were in there, coming to terms with losing Merlin.
When the nurse brought Milo out to us in the carry box, I could tell he was pleased to see us and desperately wanted out of the box. They had not found the cause of the problem and were putting it down to a virus. You would think that medical science would have moved on by now, wouldn’t you?
His temperature had come down at last, and he had been eating, so they thought he would make a better recovery at home as he was fretting too much. I had to continue the pain relief for a few days and add a powder to his food to calm his stomach. And if we were worried about him, we were to bring him back.
I don’t think we are out of the woods yet, though. Yes, he is eating, but not quite like before. He is also talking to me, constantly demanding something. He knows something is wrong, but hopefully, it will resolve itself.
I just wish I could understand his language…