The flight left on Thursday but I had that whole week off, so I thought I'd have a very leisurely time packing and getting ready. No such luck. At the weekend Bertie went suddenly and quite dramatically lame: I came home from shopping and he didn't greet me at the door. He was upstairs standing on three legs looking very sorry for himself. I dosed him with some doggie painkiller I had to hand and he seemed not too bad the next day. But then on Sunday he went downhill again - the leg swelled alarmingly and he couldn't put any weight on it.
So on Monday I whisked him off to the vet, who took him in for an X-ray. Nothing was broken, happily, so it was a matter of antibiotics, painkillers and bed rest. I was pleased I was leaving him with a good dogminder rather than kennels or some poor benighted friend. Liz was unfazed by the news - she had an elderly lab staying who was also on "light duties", so at least he would have company for his recuperation.
Just when all this was sorted, and I was about to take Bertie to the dogminder, Faye texted her news: she was in hospital in Cornwall with a very painful gallstone! I spent a day phoning and texting and emailing to see how she was and let the rest of the family know. Finally I threw some clothes and stuff in a suitcase and was off to the airport to catch the plan to London.
And at Heathrow while waiting for my flight to Kolkata I got a text from Pinky saying SHE'd been in hospital too! Good grief.
The flight was overnight and very comfortable - I was lucky enough to have all three seats to myself and so could stretch out. The only glitch was that I'd picked the very last seat on the plane to be served dinner, so by the time they got to me they only had the vegetarian option left - moussaka! I said I wouldn't mind so much if it was something Indian ... and the steward whisked it away and came back with a delicious veg curry. Lovely.
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