Scene at the Vet's.

While we were away a few weeks ago and Merlin was being looked after by Mrs Mucky-Pups, the poor lad took ill. Mrs M-P needed to get up in the wee small hours for a call of nature and noticed that he wasn't breathing properly. Half an hour later, and probably improperly dressed, she delivered the patient to the vet who promptly stuck something very sharp into Merlin's abdomen. I'm told it is very satisfying to stab an animal, hear the gas escaping and see it return to its normal size; this is soon followed by a return of normal colour and body functions, after which the emergency surgery can proceed.

Apparently, there is no connective tissue holding the stomach in place so that it can twist; this blocks off both the inlet and the outlet so that fermentation causes an inflation that can be fatal if not noticed in time. The surgery is to return the stomach to its right and proper place.

Today, Merlin went back to the vet's for the final all clear, he now just needs his hair to grow back. While in the waiting room we saw these four bundles of trouble; despite appearances, they were full of fun and had plenty of room in there, it's just that they all wanted to be in the same place at the same time (including the one at the bottom of the pile).