Poor old Prince, the Dalmatian back home, is on his last legs at the moment. He has something so catastrophically wrong with his stomach that the vet compared it to a sieve and she reckons he only has a few weeks left. Mum is putting off the inevitable partly because he's still relatively strong and she wants to wait until the point between poor health and actual misery before putting him down and partly so as we can get to go home and say goodbye to the lug. My poor brother is in bits over the whole thing, he's always had a soft spot for Prince, and as anyone who knows my brother will know - he's not one for showing his soft side so much as his manly, stubbly side.
I'm going to the doc about this asthma thing tomorrow too, I always prided myself in not falling into the typical nerd traps beyond the glasses but here I am, asthmatic and bespectacled.