Lord Malcolm's Antics Never Cease

Why Some Royal Families Choose 

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Pet Insurance

a perspective on me'brother by Lady McKenzie

I don't often get the opportunity to speak with the general public mostly because I rarely have much to say and much of my time is consumed with the rigorous duty of running the everyday affairs of the House of Hagg.  I realize that me'wicked boss, the Duchess of Hagg, would have you believe that not much gets done without her constant demands;  but truth be told, she has no idea what a job it is just to keep me'brother on the 'straight and narrow' path.  He is much bull headed, and at times very bossy and selfish.  As you may know, he is a HUGE  animal and is yet, still building his body, as he is not yet fully matured.  He stands staring at his image in the mirror waiting for his "buttocks to fill" and his "chest to drop".  I only wish he would grow into those huge feet and grand head of his.  

His intake around the Palace is as large as his personality.  He consumes more food on a daily basis than the Duchess and me'self put together.  I, of course, am the most demure and petite  of all who live here.   I pride me'self in keeping the most trim and fit of anyone in the House.  The Duchess was once fit, but she has never really been beautiful and fine boned like me and her age is now apparent, such as she no longer goes on extended runs.  It seems she is quite content to walk or if she does take to running, it is for shorter periods than she did when       she was young.  But, as I said before, Lord Malcolm cannot be satisfied with the normal 2 plates of food per day.  No.  He requires much more.  He is served 1 1/2 times as much food as me and fully 2 times as much as the Duchess at every meal and is always looking for an opportunity to snack throughout the day.

In fact, the reason why he is the subject of so much attention in this blog is that he demands so much attention during the course of every single day.  I swear, one would think that he is the only dog living here.  He spends his day doing tricks and making up his own cues (such as the tea kettle boiling) to get cookies and snacks.  It used to be that every time the kettle whistled, we could all come in for a wee cuppa tea and a wee biscuit.  With me'brother, it soon became every time the kettle was filled with water......and soon after, every time any stock pot was being filled.  He is first to show up and demand he be fed.

Lord Malcolm just after he was forced to vomit outside Vet's Clinic

Another way he gets fed is to pretend to bark at something out the window of the Palace.  That's how he manages to keep his job, by the way.  The Duchess thinks he is protecting the premises.  And when he is asked to stop barking, just what do you think happens?  Yes.  That is correct.  He races to the cookie jar and demands a cookie for his obedience. (Well, in actuality, we all race to the cookie jar with him and demand cookies for his obedience). When will they learn that he is playing them all for fools?  And, still, he cannot be satisfied..........

Lord Malcolm has proven over and over again, that he will consume anything.  Why, you remember the incident in which he almost died?  Well.  He recently pulled that little trick again!  The servants were charged with the very important and very complicated duty of decorating the Palace for the upcoming Christmas Festival.  A toy had been placed on the mantle some time ago (to curb my obsessive behavior) and had been kept there so as not to tempt me.  When it was taken down and placed in a box with other toys, of course I found it immediately!  I mean, did that silly woman think I wouldn't find it?  Humph!  Well.  As soon as I found it, Malcolm stole it from me and began to eat it.  Yes.  In the time it took for the decorating committee to get the lights and trim on the mantle, Lord Malcolm had chewed off the end of an indestructible Kong Toy.  

Don't even think about it!  Of course he ate it!  -- Along with a few Styrofoam berries.  What makes this time better than the last, is that the servant woman is constantly checking toys since that last incident.  She found the problem right away and I heard her talking sternly with Lord Malcolm and telling him that she would be ready for him at 5am the very next morning when she expected him to regurgitate the object.

5 am didn't quite make it before me'brother was waking the household with that horrible sound of bile bubbling up from the pit of hell.  All jumped out of their warm and toasty beds, turned on lights, ran for paper towels and disinfectant and waited.  Then it came.  The bile, that is, not the toy.  The servant woman decided to stay up with us (as we were all now wide awake) and leave the Duchess to finish her beauty (Ha!) rest.  It wasn't too long that the sound of regurgitation rang through the Palace again, this time from the Palace Pub.  Still, no toy.

As soon as the hour was decent, a phone call was made to the Royal Veterinary.  The Palace, having made sure upon birth that Lord Malcolm and me'self were covered by insurance, was not hesitant to rush him to the hospital yet again.  In fact, we are covered by Trupanion Pet Insurance.  The Vet, a good man named George Carley, was as distressed as I that me'brother would again place his very large body in such peril.  The good doctor considered all the options and got out his trusty 'roto-rooter' type tool in case the task required fishing it out of the stomach through the mouth.  But the chauffeur insisted on inducing vomiting.   The doctor argued that the object may well be in his intestine by now and vomiting would send it further down.  "No", insisted the chauffeur, "make him to vomit".  So, much soft food was given (and taken gladly by Lord Malcolm) and then he was given a wee drop in his eye.  Quite magically, the piece of kong came floating up with all that wonderfully soft canned food he had just eaten.  The good doctor has now officially saved Lord Malcolm's life two times!  We didn't require the insurance on this visit, but had the object gone into the intestine, we would have needed it to take care of the surgical costs.  It has proven to have all ready paid for itself with the last 2 surgeries where the doctor ended by taking 6 inches of Lord Malcolm's bowel.  In fact, those 2 surgeries, having been paid by the Trupanion Pet Insurance, have paid for the cost of the insurance for both me'brother and me'self for our entire lives.  We are very grateful for the benefits we are afforded by living and working at the House of Hagg.  And again, Lord Malcolm gets all the attention on facebook!