Outta proportion

Bert found a stick today on our walk. He was very happy with himself. Until he tried to bring it along…

It was at least three Baby Sprockers long (the new stick measuring scale I have adopted).

Bert loves a stick. He doesn’t chew them. He kinda shreds them. He’s worked out which size he can get through the cat flap. My office looked like Edward Scissorhands had been in there after he’s brought in a particularly old one!

Then he went mad trying to eat the dustpan and brush. He does make me laugh. Even if he does mean that things take bit longer to do.

Stool sample

Nothing says you’re getting older than the array of tests you suddenly become eligible for. The latest one for me – bowel cancer. I’m all clear by the way. I got the results through today.

Must admit, I was slightly unnerved to receive a testing kit through the post. Even more unnerved having to smear my own poo on a stick and return it in the post.

Yes I know I’m used to shovelling poo. But horse poo is a bit different to my own. I had to read the instructions a few times to check I was doing it right. As someone who writes for a living, that was one job I wouldn’t want. Take a moment to feel for the poor copywriter having to sensitively but clearly explain what to do. Basically stick the stick in the shit and stick the shitty stick in the post. Or words to the effect of…