He had become hugely fat, like a bloated sausage with a leg at each corner . His eyes bloodshot and rheumy.
He has become so listless, Mr.Herriot. It seems that it have no energy . I think he must be suffering from malnutrition, so I have been giving him some little extras between meals to build him up.
And did you cut down on the sweet things as I told you?
Oh, I did, for a bit, but he seemed to be so weak I had to relent. He does love cream cakes and chocolates, so. I can't bear to refuse him.
Горка: 2
Mrs. Pumphrey and the doctor continued talking
I looked down again at the little dog. That was the trouble. Tricki's only fault was greed. He had never been known to refuse food; he could tackle a meal at any hour of the day or night. And I wondered about all the things Mrs. Pumphrey hadn't mentioned.
Well, he has his little walks with me as you can see, but Hodgkin, the gardener, has been down with lumbago, so there has been no ring-throwing lately.
Are you giving him plenty of exercise?
Oh I will, Mr. Herriot. I’m sure you are right, but it is so difficult, so very difficult.
Now, I really mean this. If you don't cut food right now and give him more exercise, he is going to be really ill. You must harden your heart and keep him on a very strict diet.
Горка: 3
I watched their progress with growing concern. Tricki was tottering along in his little tweed coat; he had a whole wardrobe of these coats —for the cold weather and a raincoat for the wet days. He struggled on, drooping in his harness. I thought it wouldn’t be long before I heard from Mrs. Pumphrey.
She set off, head down, along the road, as if determined to put the new regime into practice immediately.
Горка: 4
The expected call came within a few days. Mrs. Pumphrey was distraught. Tricki would eat nothing. Refused even his favourite dishes; and besides, he had bouts of vomiting. He spent all his time lying on a rug, panting. Didn’t want to go for walks, didn’t want to do anything
Горка: 5
The doctor had made his plans in advance. The only way was to get Tricki out of the house for a period. He suggested that he be hospitalized for about a fortnight to be kept under observation. The poor lady almost swooned. She was sure he would pine and die if he did not see her every day. But the doctor took a firm line. Tricki was very ill and this was the only way to save him; in fact, he thought it best to take him without delay and, followed by Mrs Pumphrey’s wailings, the doctor marched out to the car carrying the little dog wrapped in a blanket.
The entire staff was roused and maids rushed in and out bringing his day bed, his night bed, favourite cushions, toys and rubber rings, breakfast bowl, lunch bowl, supper bowl. Realising that his car would never hold all the stuff, the doctor started to drive away. As he moved off, Mrs. Pumphrey, with a despairing cry, threw an armful of the little coats through the window. He looked in the mirror before he turned the corner of the drive; everybody was in tears.
Горка: 6
Out on the road, the doctor glanced down at the pathetic little animal gasping on the seat by his side. He pat the head and Tricki made a brave effort to wag his tail.
Poor old lad, you haven’t a kick in you but I think I know a cure for you.