Sunday, May 28, 2017
The Breo Report
this is Breogán, chief of security, reporting from operation Fogar de Breogán, or ... my house.
Commandeering the glowing screen thingy after the shocking lack of reports on my convalescence. I´m now 13 days post surgery for my torn anterior cruciate ligament. The injury was sustained on duty while in pursuit of a suspected intruder of the fluffy tail variety, and left me limping and unable to adequately fulfill my duties. Rapid pursuit was out of the question. I could barely confront strangers who approached the compound perimeter. Constant vigilance!
Fortunately, my team have mostly stepped up and are coping during my recovery. The female staffer is a keeper. By that I mean housekeeper, groundskeeper, gate keeper and bookkeeper (while I am monitoring evening neighborhood movements, she reads a book.) She is also the keeper of the bones, which I am gratified to note, have not been lacking. With my movements strictly curtailed, I would go stir crazy without something crunchy to snack on. Despite my injury, buried bone rotation policy is strictly enforced on an ongoing basis. She also monitors my bandages, and provides physical therapy in the form of tummy and back scratches which are greatly assisting in my recovery. Perhaps that´s the reason for blog-silence.
The male staffer is the operation´s PR person. I deduce this from the hours he spends talking loudly on the phone and looking at the glowing screen. But, to his credit, he has stepped up patrol frequency, at least as far as the patio, and continues night shifts which started when I first came home from the operation. In addition, he has provided activity objects which allow me to hone my crushing, rending and tearing skills.
Primarily, my duties now consist of supervising the female staff as she excavates and providing alerts, should vehicles or individuals approach. Although long range reconnaissance is impossible at this time, local patrols and perimeter checks continue on a regular basis. Communication channels remain open with auxiliary outposts in the surrounding territory and alarms duly repeated as necessary. Constant vigilance.
The stitches came out Friday, and a case of rash has precluded more bandaging. The vet staff have been universally impressed with my physique and forebearance. The now regulation applications of sticky stuff on and around the injury are a constant temptation to self-cure by licking. I know I´m not supposed to take measures into my own paws, and when I can´t help myself, the staff bring out the collar of shame. I hate that. So undignified.
I fully expect to begin extending patrols for longer distances next week. In the meantime, I am happy to report that I was finally provided with a sofa worthy of the name on which to recover.
A cordial wag of the tail to my canine comrades. Keep to the Mastiff code.
Breogán, Bonecrusher, Cats Bane and Celtic Cur.