Friday, September 30, 2011
"The World is My Buffet Table.......
.......and I intend to eat as much as possible."
Lord Malcolm, Chamberlain to the Duchess of Hagg
Here ye! Here ye! An edict from Her Royal Hieney, The Duchess of Hagg.
All Lords and Ladies of the Royal Household
will eat only those items prepared by the much trusted and loyal
and served properly in a fine 'Bone' China bowl
My Chamberlain, Lord Malcolm, who cares for the running of my household along with the Lady McKenzie, has "laid off" (to use the local vernacular) the Royal Food Tester in an effort to save much needed funds in this poor economy. On the face of it, this may have seemed a good idea. However, knowing that I myself will place nothing in my mouth without the food first, being tested by a servant (one never knows who might try to take my life by poison), Lord Malcolm did take upon himself this very important position. This is where the trouble began and, as you will soon see, it grew worse as each day passed. And it would seem that days were the only things passing--if you get my drift.
So let us begin at the beginning.
It was a beautiful day and I sent the Royal Gardener out to tidy up the posies. Due to the a-fore mentioned recent cut-backs in our household budget, the Gardener now pulls 'triple duty' as the Royal Staff Oversight Chairperson and the Royal Chef. Of course, this would lead to one person having to be in two or three places at the same time, which is why I had vehemently argued against such cut backs, alas, to no avail. It was then that Lord Malcolm decided that he was hungry. The Gardener returned some 30 minutes later to find that the Celtic Knot throw rug that welcomes guests to our Royal Estate had been overturned. And she found Lord Malcolm sitting there calmly whilst Lady McKenzie was chewing on the backing tape that prevents the rug from slipping.
Lady McKenzie forfeited her portion of the backing tape and other small pieces were found scattered about and retrieved. The rug was put back in place and a note was made that most of the tape had not been found. Looking at Lord Malcolm, the comment was heard; "Ah. This, too, shall pass". But it didn't. It didn't that day, or the next. Finally, as we were all sleeping soundly, a terrifying noise was echoed throughout the bed chamber at approximately 5am. It was the horrifying sound of regurgitation.
The servants sprang from their beds, fumbled for the lights and ran to the kennel (er, ahem, bed) from where the sound was coming. Flinging open the kennel door (er, ahem, bed curtains) and yanking Lord Malcolm away from the crate pad (er, ahem, fine linens) in order that they, those lazy and ill mannered servants, would not have to do a washing. As it happened, Lord Malcolm did indeed, spit out some vile and very nasty looking and brightly colored stomach fluid. But after careful checking, alas, there was no tape. All went back to bed.
...........Repeat the last paragraph at least 3 more times. ...And only once, did a small piece of tape appear. But the poor guy could not eat or drink or pass anything that day. And he continued to throw up at least 7 more times, with no relief. Finally, I instructed the servant to take him to see the Royal Doctor. X-rays were taken and anti vomiting medicine was given and it was decided to wait to see if the object would pass. But it did not pass. Poor Lord Malcolm never drank a drop of water, nor did he eat or 'pass' anything for another 5 days. (The Royal Doctor was 'on call' for the entire weekend and even talked with my servant during the Holy Services on Sunday morning!).
He was seen again on the following Monday and it was determined that he would have surgery to remove the tape. As it happened, the tape was only part of the problem. Apparently, Lord Malcolm had also eaten a portion of a rubber dental toy. It was the shape of a donut with medieval knobs similar to a mace around the edges and a hole in the middle. The tape of course, had gone through the hole and pulled the toy from the stomach to the intestine where it lodged and was reaking havoc. Pictures can be seen on the Royal Doctors' Facebook Page.
Well. All's well that ends well. -- Well. Not exactly. Lord Malcolm spent the night in the Royal Hospital whilst I kept Lady McKenzie well entertained to keep her mind off worrying about the fate of her beloved brother. We did have a wonderful and very entertaining evening. ( I must plan another "ladies only" evening very soon). When Malcolm returned home to us, however, we could instantly see that something had gone a-rye. He was certainly not himself. He simply stood there with his head and tail sagging sadly while he kept his back hunched up like a cat. After again, checking with the Vet (er, ahem, Royal Doctor) it was decided to 'up' his pain medication. But after waiting out a full day and a half with little to no change, he was taken back to the hospital.
Another surgery determined that his wee body had rejected the absorb-able sutures that had been used, and every where there had been a suture, the tissue had sort of melted away. The Royal Doctor was forced to take 6 inches of bowel out because of this and they really had to work him over to clean out all the infection. Peritonitis is a very bad situation and not one to be taken lightly. Lord Malcolm was very near death. But he is home now, and resting comfortably with his sister. And he is on a full road to recovery thanks be to God and His servants at Hunters Glen Vet Hospital. He was even able to enjoy a bit of sport in Agility Class last Wednesday evening.
I have removed all carpet tape and replaced with a very expensive and thick carpet pad that cannot be swallowed whole. I swear, that we must find a way to replace our lost servants so that this never happens again. Lord Malcolm needs an Overseer at all times as his palette is in it's "development" stage. Hopefully with age, "This too, shall pass".
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