lost weekend

Early on Saturday morning, we set off to explore a bit of National Cycle Route 7, between Kilmahog and Strathyre. All was well – the weather was fine, the scenery was glorious, there was a tasty picnic in the basket, Tom was bicycling, and I was tricycling along merrily, with Bruce happily in tow. Then, after a few miles, and just a minute or two after I stopped to take the photograph above, Bruce decided to leap into a barbed wire fence, and wounded himself really badly between his hind-leg and groin. A mad dash to the emergency vets ensued.

Bruce is well-trained, and very good off the lead. He always stays close to us when we are walking or cycling, and this is the first time he has sustained any kind of serious injury while we’ve been out and about. Fence-leaping is not typical Bruce behaviour, but I would not want to run the risk of him acting on an unaccountable dog-whim on another occasion. Does he know what hurt him? Would he know not to try jumping such an obstacle again? My feeling is probably not. In any case, we were lucky that his injuries weren’t much worse, that Tom was there to manhandle him back over the fence to safety, and that we were able to get his injuries attended to relatively quickly.

The worst thing about having an injured animal is that you cannot explain to them what is wrong; why their leg is bothering them, why they can’t run up and down the stairs, why they have to sleep wearing a giant plastic cone on their swede. It is fair to say that Bruce is feeling a wee bit sorry for himself, but really, he is absolutely fine.

National Cycle Route 7 can wait a while.