Today has been a bit crap. We had to take Borg to the vets. He seemed to be panting a bit yesterday and what we had thought was a growing spare tyre increased in size dramatically. It was out with the dictionary first thing this morning to look up breathing difficulties, swollen stomach, appointment, today, as soon as possible, and so we got our first experience of French vets (who to our relief spoke excellent english). They kept him in for tests and it seems his heart is enlarged and he is retaining fluid. We have been calling him a lazy fat git and the poor old love has got a dicky ticker. Que guilt trip.
So we have had an anxious day where basically all we have done is driven him up there come back and poked around and stuff then driven back to pick him up all the while expecting the worse. Even when we saw the vet tonight and he showed us the ultrasound and the fluid he had drawn off I was thinking "Yes this is leading up to the nothing can be done speech". But we have some tablets for the fluid and some for his heart so we'll keep our fingers crossed that he starts slapping the dogs around again soon. By the way all the above, consultation, ultrasound, drugs came in at 79 euros much cheaper I think than our old vets in the UK.
The chooks have excelled themselves by delivering four eggs today except that they've taken to sleeping in the nest box and laying their eggs on the floor in the middle of their house. We've given half a dozen to Madame next door to store up some goodwill for when they decide to raid her veg plot.