A cautionary tale

Basta—my new, very-best friend—and me (or is it I?) went for a walk today, which was a huge relief. Because Basta’s been terribly sick for almost a week, and I want to tell you why.

When Basta and I go for our walks we like to eat some of the things we find: dung, dead frogs, road kill—that sort of thing. My mum’s always saying “Leave it!” in that very stern voice of hers, and usually we do. But last week Basta managed to eat some of the unpicked grapes that, at this time of the year, lie on the ground in the vineyards, fermented and full of sugar, and that would be okay—except that the stems contain some nasty toxic substance that can cause renal failure, whatever that might mean.

It means a puppy can die is what it means!

Or, at least, that’s what my nice vet, Patrice, said when my mum told him what Basta had been up to and that she was feeling extremely poorly. So, anyway, then Basta’s mum rushed her to the clinic to see the vet, and Basta was given heaps of tests and injections, and loads of medicines.

Now Basta’s feeling better, and we can go for our walks again, but it was a close-run thing apparently. Phew!

Watch what your puppy eats! is the lesson, I think. And, however much we want to, don’t let us eat grapes or raisins, please.