My Jack Russell has been my best buddy for six years. He’s been my steadfast friend through all manner of catastrophe and he’s a sweet little man.
Okay, he’s a former fat boy, and that was all my fault. He doesn’t feed himself and he’s eaten several things that could have killed him. A chicken bhuna was a particular favourite.
I spoiled him something chronic after he had the boy op. But – the addition of Aimée and her labrador, Tara, to the household melted the weight off him.
He has spondylitis. A bad back. His spine is growing extra bits of bone. Seemingly, it’s some sort of hereditary whatnot, but he has painkillers and gas started on CBD oil, which seems to help a lot.
His new favourite thing in all the world, better than beef, better than tripe, better even than me – is kale.
I don’t know how this foray into vegetables came from but if he hears the plastic wrapping crinkle in the fridge, as I push passed it to get to the cheese (my weight is its own situation), he’s off the sofa and trembling for his special Treat.
My boy loves kale. He’s a bit strange.