I now know what my dog feels like.
Not in so far as I can suddenly lick my own "bits", nor have I sprouted a tail, started sniffing my own poo, or weeing outside. And I haven't got fleas either (though the thought of it has suddenly made my scalp itch!)
Off we went for the scan today, and every time my darling wife was called through for this, that or the other appointment, or to take her wee somewhere (Doctors are fascinated by the wee of pregnant ladies), I stood up too, to be told, "Not you" and so I would slink back round into my seat, slowly exhale and probably look pitiful. Just like when I tell my own dog, "Bed!"
They say you should walk a mile in another man's shoes before judging him - I think you should walk a mile on another dog's paws, and spend an hour being sent to bed before you cast judgement.
But anyway, everything seemed to go well, even though the hospital were wise to us and told us we wouldn't be getting another scan today - Boo, that was the bit I was looking forward to.
In other news, I can't believe I declined to watch Liverpool play last night, and they stuck 8 past Besiktas - typical!
Maybe if I took my own wee along I'd get invited to more things...?
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