Warm Warm Warm Weather

Pearlie's funeral happened to be on one of the warmest days of the year so far. This was fitting as she hated being cold and would bumfle herself up in as many layers as possible. My reading was difficult to do. The sadness kind of hit me when I got up to read about her and I felt my voice start to crumple. I managed to compose myself and was able to finish the tribute.

The awesome weather continued for the next few days. I stayed at mum's on Wednesday night and all day Thursday. The girls were out and they entertained us with their childlike imaginations. We painted for a while and then played a game on the trampoline that was called "Go Mad and Crazy". This involved me bouncing around like a loon with arms and legs flailing all over the place while I shouted "Everything's all mad and crazy". The girls joined in until we'd all fall in a heap laughing our heads off.

Friday was even warmer and when I cam home from work I discovered Ziggy hadn't been well. He'd had a few accidents on the floor, seemingly, from both ends and I was a bit concerned about taking him out for a long walk. I hooked up with Z and her brood and we drove to the river path so all the dogs could have a dip in the water to cool them down. Ziggy ran around with Maya and didn't seem the slightest bit unwell. I came home from work yesterday afternoon and the flatmate told me Ziggy had had another wee accident in the morning. He seemed ok and I took him for a walk around Portglenone forest with someone who owns an American Akita. Ziggy and the Akita had a great game of chase and dipped themselves in the water. I went out to Nellybert's after and Ziggy spent the next four hours playing with Jess. My mum looked at him and said "I thought you said Ziggy wasn't well."

This morning I have watched him out in the backyard and he's had more bouts of diarrhea and vomiting. I don't know if it's been the heat, or something he ate, but even when he's not well he just wants all the fun there is to be had. He's resting now for the first time in days. Meka is also not a hundred per cent. She has started to grow another mammory tumour, this time on her side. I don't think I will put her through another big operation as she is in the final stage of her life. Rats only live until there about 3 years old and Meka is two and a half. By the time the lump grows to a size where it's starting to affect her she will be dying of old age anyway. That will be the last little ratty I keep for a while. This morning I had her up on the sofa with Ziggy and I. She lay in below my dressing gown and came out every once in a while to sniff Ziggy.