You are James Herriot a famous vet surgeon. Narrate your own experience how you cured the most pampered dog of Mrs Pumphrey without any surgery or medicine.
Answers
This time when I saw Tricki, the pet dog of Mrs Pumphrey, I was really worried about him. He had become hugely fat. His eyes seemed bloodshot and rheumy, and his tongue lolled from his jaws. He seemed to have no energy. I thought that he must be suffering from malnutrition, so I had preferred him extras between meals, some malt and cod- liver oil and a bowl of Horlicks.
After that i asked Mrs Pumphrey if she had cut down sweets. But she replied that she couldn't bear to refuse Tricki. Then I investigated whether she gave him plenty of exercises. She answered that he had little walks, but there had been no ring throwing lately.
I warned Mrs Pumphrey that if she didn't cut his food and give him more exercise he would be really ill. I watched their progress with the growing concern. But the expected call came within a few days. Tricki would eat nothing and had bouts of vomiting. He spent all his time lying on the rug, panting and didn't want to go for walks. Now the only way was to get Tricki out of the house for a period. I suggested that he be hospitalised for about 14 days for observation. I marched out to the car carrying the little dog wrapped in a blanket.
At the surgery, Tricki looked down at the noisy pack of dogs with dull eyes and, when put down, laid motionless. Other dogs found him uninteresting and ignored him. For two days, I gave him no food but a plenty of water. At the end of the 2nd day he showed some interest in the surrounding and on the 3rd day he started to whimper when he heard the dogs in the yard.
Later that day, at the feeding time, there was a rush between dogs for food. When they had finished, Tricki took a walk round the shining bowls, licking casually inside one or two of them. Next day, an extra bowl was put out for him.
From then on, his progress was rapid. He had no medicinal treatment of any kind but all day he ran about with the dogs. He became an accepted member of the gang. He would now fight for his shares at the mealtimes.
All the while, Mrs Pumphrey would ring a dozen of times a day for the latest bulletins about Tricki. She would bring two dozens of eggs a time to build up Tricki's strength. But my partners and I had 2 eggs each for breakfast. Soon she began to bring bottles of wine to enrich Tricki's blood. We drank them also.
After a fortnight, I called Mrs Pumphrey to tell her that the little dog had recovered and was awaiting collection. Within minutes, Mrs Pumphrey came in her black car. I walked through the house into the garden and carried Tricki back along the passage to the front of the house. In two weeks, he had been transformed into a lithe, hard-muscled animal; he was keeping up well with the pack, stretching out in great bounds, his chest almost brushing the ground.
When Tricki saw his mistress he took off from my arms in a tremendous leap and went into Mrs Pumphrey's lap. As the car moved away, Mrs Pumphrey leaned out of the window. Tears shine in her eyes and her lips trembled. She thanked me saying, that is a triumph of surgery.