The Revenge of the Bloomers

So, you may remember that Mum and I were not on speaking terms. This was because she hacked off my bloomers and left them all over the lawn. That night I confess I went to bed with vengeance in my heart.

I slept fitfully, plagued by dreams of a giant ape wielding a lawnmower, and it may be in the course of all the tossing and turning that I sustained my injury – I’m not pointing the paw, okay, I’m just saying that it’s not completely impossible that the attack on my bloomers and the injury that followed the very next morning are in some way related. Not impossible, that is all I’m saying.

What is certain is that when I woke at last to find that it was morning, I performed my usual stretching routine (a Megastar needs to keep flexible) and all of a sudden, I felt something go in my shoulder. The next thing I knew I had tumbled over and was lying on my side on the floor.

Now I’m not a dog to panic. I’m not. I knew perfectly well I’d strained a muscle. It was nothing a little rest and massage, perhaps a touch of laser, wouldn’t fix. I knew that perfectly well, but the thing is Mum didn’t. She was seriously stressing. ‘Meg!’ she said. ‘What’s the matter, baby?’ Like really concerned, really properly concerned, and I’m lying there on the floor and I can’t help thinking, well this is all very nice and stuff, her coming over all devoted Momma, but what about yesterday? What about the nightmare with the scissors? She needs to be taught a lesson, I thought, And that’s when I hatched my plan.

It wasn’t hard. Mum is gullible, with a great big capital G. Each time, I stood up, I’d give her this look, like just to make sure she was watching and then I’d let myself fall over. After five falls, she was beside herself. ‘Oh, Meg!’ she said. ‘Meg!’ It was all I could do not to wag my tail.

‘We’re going to see Philippa,’ she says. Philippa calls herself a rehab vet, but really she is my personal trainer, masseuse and physio rolled into one. She’s a three hour drive away, but that’s okay. We’ve got the Mega-Wagon.


We stopped at my favourite service station, the one where I jumped in the lake and stuff, like three weeks after my amputation, and rolled on a dead fish while everyone watched. I LOVE that place. I’m like, ‘Come on Mum! Let’s go down to the lake!’ (in truth, I’d forgotten my shoulder for a moment) and she gave me this look, like really stern, like seriously no messing. ‘Meg!’ she said. ‘I’m on a deadline today. This is a three hundred mile round trip. Philippa has gone out of her way to fit us in. You had better not be shamming, okay?’ So then I fell over, just to show her I wasn’t. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

Mum had been stressing about my elbow, but Philippa said my elbow was fine. She checked me all over, while I lay there on the mat and Mum fed me chunks of flame roast chicken. She checked all down my spine, my back, my hips, my feet, even in between my toes. ‘Ah!’ she said, when she got to my shoulder. ‘She’s pulled a muscle behind the blade.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, could of told you that!’ Except I didn’t say anything of course, I just kept eating my chicken. So then she did laser all round my shoulder and down my back and my paw as well. And after that acupuncture too and I could feel my eyelids starting to droop and I almost went right off to sleep. Philippa said I need to rest to give my shoulder a chance to heal, just short lead walks on flat surfaces, with no sharp turns, which is a bit of a bore but I s’pose I’ll have to do it. ‘The most important thing,’ she said, ‘is to let Meg eat whatever she wants while she’s healing, and even after she’s better, to be honest, you must let her eat anything she wants: game pie, roast chicken, sausages. Whatever she wants, whenever she wants.’ Mum says Philippa never said that, but she definitely did; I heard her clearly.

Mum was so happy I was alright she sang the whole way home, and the whole car felt lighter like it was flying and that’s when I realised how worried she’d been, and I felt a bit bad to be honest.

This started as a story of vengeance, but in the end it turns out it’s a story of love, cos life’s too short to bear grudges. Mum and I are friends again and anyway I noticed this morning my bloomers are already starting to grow back.


8 thoughts on “The Revenge of the Bloomers”

  1. Oh this is the best story … I love this post! You are so loved Miss Meg!!! That is a great photo with your and your mum. 🙂

    So glad to learn it was just a muscle strain… rest up and enjoy all your special eats!

    Alison with Spirit Shelby and little Jasper too

    1. Thank you, Alison. I will do my best, and, thanks for suggesting the massage. I love it. Even if (don’t tell her I said so) Mum has yet to perfect her technique…
      Lots of love,
      Meg xxx

  2. OH MEG!!!! YOU HAVE ME IN STITCHES!!! Now, that’s a human term….we aren’t really in actual stitches! It merely means I am LMAO! 🙂

    I know getting your bloomers trimmed was traumatic. Vut talk about a silver lining! You get to eat anything you want!!!! OMD!!!!! You get massages, you get even more spoiled (as if that’s possible)!

    I bet Elsie wishes she had bloomers to trim!

    I tell ya’ what, you have the best ride in town! I love the fan idea! Of course, it’s not only just for your comfort, it’s also to help get rid of any remaining dead fish smell!

    ALWAYS love reading your posts Meg!’ Vut seeing thst photo of you and your Mum…PRICELESS TREASURE!

    Lots a d lots of love!

    Sally and Alumni Happy Hannah and Merry Myrtle and Frankie too!

  3. You think the bloomers were bad? My Mom took me to our favorite pet store where usually I play poor, three legged cancer dog and get lots of free treats. But instead of treats, she took me to the Spaw portion and assaulted me with water and shampoo. I smell like lavender. And no treats. They seem to thing I am a “customer” now, and ignore my poor three legged cancer dog routine.
    Signed, Otis

    1. Oh Otis! How AWFUL! And now those chipmunks will smell you coming a mile off. Honestly, when will they learn!
      Yours in heartfelt sympathy, Meg xxx

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