I'm sorry to report, dear friends, that I wasn't feeling my usual bouncy self last week.
Gail says that I was reminding her of Eeyore in Winnie the Pooh, with the mournful eyes and the morose and self pitying demeanour. And truly, when asked how I was feeling, the response, "not very how", seemed quite apt (although rest assured that, unlike Eeyore, I most definitely - and thankfully - had not lost my tail).
So bowls of food went uneaten, and parks went unvisited and on Friday I was finally taken to the V.E.T.
Who said I was running a high temperature (I shall spare you the details of how she found that out…) and probably had 'gastroenteritis'. She said it might be viral or it might be bacterial but she'd give me some antibiotics as a precaution. At which point I thought about entering into a scientific debate about the pros and cons of antibiotic use in these circumstances, and considered quoting Lord O'Neill's recent report on the issue and asking for a test. But to be honest I didn't quite have the energy for it, and neither, apparently, did Gail.
So anyway, after a weekend of light meals of chicken, plain rice and tablets, I am now feeling distinctly better, if not quite yet back to peak bouncing capacity.