Savannah

Woof everyone! I have something to tell you all.

I would like to announce the arrival of my beautiful little baby sister, Savannah Rosemary Beadling.

Anna (for short) was born on 18 August 2014.

We are all doing very well. Here's a picture of my little darling sister.

"Hi! My name is Savannah!"

I am now officially a big brother! Woo hoo!

Something is 'Brewing'

As you know, a couple of significant events have taken place in my life over the past few months. First of all, there was my move from Singapore to Thailand and some of the adventures in my new home. Secondly, I have had some major health issues to deal with.

But there has been one other development which I haven’t mentioned yet. Something strange has been going on.

First of all, some new furniture has been arriving.

Like this…

…and this.

Then, I have noticed some new clothes hanging around…

Surely they don’t expect this to fit me???

Finally, there have been a lot of interesting toys showing up, but they don’t appear to be for me!

Who are these for, if not for me?

Well, if I can’t have those toys, nobody is going to have mine. Hmmph!

My ‘Precious’…

But the thing I’ve noticed most, is that the Missus seems to be ‘changing’.

Don’t tell her, but the Missus appears to be putting on a bit of weight.

What could this all mean…?

Latest Update On My Tumour

Woof folks.

In a previous post, I told you that I had undergone surgery to remove a tumour on my front left paw. The earlier cytology on an aspirate sample suggested that it was a Round Cell Tumour.

Well, the results of the biopsy on the nodule itself revealed that it was, in fact, a Grade 2 Mast Cell Tumour. Of course my humans have been very concerned. After all, we lived through around ten months of surgery, chemotherapy and general ‘unpleasantness’ when I was battling through three other Mast Cell Tumours only last year.

Anyway, since the surgery, I have had various blood analyses, ultrasound scans, x-rays and other examinations to check whether the cancer was still a problem. Fortunately, up till now, everything appears to be clear. We are still monitoring the situation and it might be that chemotherapy or radiotherapy might be necessary/prudent.

I’ll keep you all informed on developments.

Love,

Homer

My Pool Paradise

Woof folks!

Remember a short while ago when I told you about my new home in Pattaya, and the fact that it comes with its own swimming pool? Well, before I went for surgery to remove my tumour, my humans decided to take me for my first ‘dip’.

It had been a couple of years since I was last in a swimming pool. That was when I was staying in Singapore. So, you can imagine how nerve-wracking it was for me to ‘take the plunge’ after so long!

Let me tell you how my day unfolded...

Here’s Dad with the ‘Ball of Tennis’. He was explaining that we would be going for a swim and giving me words of encouragement, trying to build up my confidence.

Before I knew it, Dad had gone into the water.

After a while, he gently guided me down the steps and into the pool.

Once I was in the water, everything started to ‘click’…

…I was swimming again! Yay!

Of course, I am an excellent swimmer! After all, I spent a lot of time swimming when I was living in Holland (Hoek van Holland Beach) and Italy (Lake Garda and Lake Como)!

Before long I had worked out how to get into the pool all by myself. It was easy peasy!

Me and Dad spent ages having races to see who could get to the ‘Ball of Tennis’ first…

At first, Dad had the upper hand.

But then I started winning all of the races!

So Dad, being a sore loser, decided to cheat by constantly pulling the ball away from me. Bah!

In the end, I was just too fast for him. Once I’d got the ‘Ball of Tennis’ in my mouth, I would speed off like a torpedo!

Then it was a race back to the corner of the pool where the stairs are. Boy I was paddling very hard!

Here I am, frantically climbing out before Dad got to me!

‘Pant’, ‘Pant’, ‘Pant’. You know, I’m not getting any younger and mastering the pool stairs was no easy task.

Here I am, hanging on for dear life to the side of the pool…

…catching a breather during the exertions!

But I was soon off swimming again…

Look at me, all ‘goofy’ with my tongue hanging out.

I eventually got the hang of getting out of the pool.

In fact, I was literally ‘flying’ out!

With…

…or without the ‘Ball of Tennis’.

Phew! Just time for a quick dry out…

…And to check where Dad was!

Before plunging back in again.

I had such a fantastic time frolicking around with Dad.

We hung out by the side of the pool…

…we played a lot of silly games…

…we chased each other…

…and we laughed and laughed. We just had such a great time together!

Before I sign off, I’ll leave you with a couple of candid shots of Yours Truly. Enjoy.

Here I am striking the obligatory pose for the camera. (To be honest, I was really checking out my booti-ful reflection in the water!).

And here I am just swimming. Don’t I have an adorable expression on my face?

As I said earlier, all-in-all I had such fantastic day with my Dad. I can’t wait for our next ‘swim-day’!

Love,
Homer

I’m a Total Wreck! (But I’m Loving the Attention!)

As you know, I have recently undergone surgery to remove a potential tumour from my front left paw pad. For a week after the operation, my leg had to be heavily bandaged to avoid me inadvertently opening up the stitches around my wound. This meant that I had to ‘hop’ around on three legs.

Now, let me tell you, this can be quite a challenge at times and also pretty uncomfortable. I had no problems with peeing but when it came to pooping, that was a different story! Nobody ever taught me how to poop on three legs. As a result, I couldn’t ‘go’ for five days!

Gosh. FIVE DAYS! That’s a lot of poop stored up in your body! Eeks!

Here I am as a ‘three-legged pooch’. Despite the discomfort, I still look like a happy boy, don’t you think?

Unfortunately, the tumour hasn’t been the only affliction I’ve been dealing with. I’ve also suffered from an infection on my (handsome) face and an inflammation of my, AHEM, ‘crown jewels’.

But it hasn’t all been bad news. I have had to visit the vet on a daily basis and the attention that I have been receiving has been first class. Let me show you what I mean…

Here’s the vet checking out the post-surgery wound on my paw.

She was always meticulous in giving me a long, relieving massage…

…and after the daily physiotherapy, my leg was carefully bandaged up once more.

Next, check-out my ‘scabby’ face. Apparently, this wound was caused by a bug bite which subsequently got infected.

Each day, the nurse would carefully shave the fur around the affected area…

…before diligently dabbing antiseptic lotion on my face.

Finally it was time to handle my delicate, AHEM, AHEM, ‘boy-bits’. (Please don’t read any further if you are of a shy disposition…)

This is me having my, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, scrotum dabbed with antiseptic lotion.

Let me explain. It appears that I have had a strong reaction to something or other (possibly floor detergent) which has caused an inflammation in my, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, ‘nether regions’.

Here’s the pretty vet handling my AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, ‘male parts’. (Dad said he was really jealous, but I didn’t know what he meant. The Missus didn’t seem too amused by his comment.)

Let me leave you with a picture of me being pampered by all of the pretty veterinary doctors and nurses (and an envious-looking Dad).

Sigh…It’s a hard life.

Love,

Homer