It’s been a long, cold winter and, as a result, my personal attendant (a.k.a. “owner”) has been somewhat less than diligent about performing certain somewhat repugnant tasks on my behalf (gently cleaning my sheath). Since I’m what is referred to as a “dirty boy”, this really needs to be done fairly frequently
She CLAIMS she didn’t do it because the temperatures were too cold and the water kept freezing. Personally I think she was avoiding it. Period.
Anyway, last week I blew up like a balloon. I looked like a well endowed stallion, not the gelding I really am. Panic ensued. THEN she tried to clean things up but it was impossible with the swelling. Hah! Fixed her! This required a call to the vet who performed the necessary duties.
Of course, I was completely discombobulated with the various medications they gave me – staggering like a drunken sailor on the first Sat. night in port after months at sea. Talk about taking a trip without leaving the farm. Whoooeee! Who cared what they did to my personal parts? Stick needles in my neck? No problemo! Dude!
It’s been several days now and the swelling is slowly receding. So much for my manly appearance! Hmmm.