Gimp
Oh dear. It would appear Desdog, not content with his incontinence (chiz), is now lame in one foreleg. He was doing his usual mentalist impession on our walk this morning when he pulled up with a yelp and refused to put any weight on his front left paw. He won’t let me anywhere near it to check what’s wrong, but I’m guessing (hoping) it’s a sprain. Given that a bread poultice would be eaten in seconds, I suppose we can do nothing but wait to see how it is in the morning. He has been known to be a drama queen, milking ailments for all the sympathy they’re worth, but I reckon this is the real deal. The acid test will be when it’s time for the walk tomorrow…