Phillip Bruce - he never wasted a word.

I have just been reading blog posts by an old friend, Phillip Bruce, an ex-next door neighbour of ours from a time when we lived in adjacent houses just off Worthing's eastern sea front. He was a fine writer having cut his teeth on journalism and PR. Phillip would come home to England 3 or 4 times each year from HongKong where latterly he had handled the public relations element for the then 'New' Hong Kong Airport. When he returned to England full time after the airport's opening and probably, more to the point, after Hong Kong reverted to Chinese control, it was not long before he knocked on our door... In his hand he had a bucket half full of mussels. In all my adult years of living in Worthing it had never occurred to me to collect mussels from Worthing's seashore. It just wouldn't have seemed right.  But, as only a relatively rare visitor... we hadn't socialised too much either - but there he was bucket in hand saying "How about Mussels and Mash round at ours tonight...about eight?" That evening we had a great time. Worthing's and Phillip's Moules & Mash was terrific, finishing off with a bottle of Pimm's he had 'found' that was too good to pass up. Thirty years old he told us, made when Pimm's  was rather special and, boy, was he right. I'm not sure what he was adding to it but Micki had to leave to go to bed at about 11 O'clock. I couldn't move (not that I was desperate to) and stayed rooted to the spot until around 1am. I'm not sure how I got home but I don't think anyone was with me at the table on their verandah when I managed to gain re-control of my legs.

About a year after this excellent episode he and his family took off for a finca in rural Spain where he and Sharon, his wife, enjoyed the job of feature writing for an English language newspaper, 'The Round Town News', which I'm sure many Costa Blanca residents still read with more fervour than any of the UK red-tops - or broadsheets come to that! Phillip and Sharon would travel around visiting local businesses, towns... artisan bakeries, glass works and restaurants... Sharon would dictate her experiences and Phillip would craft their joint copy ready for each deadline.

Phillip had spent many years in PR in China and was fluent in Mandarin, Cantonese and the various dialect offshoots... He rubbed shoulders with the great and the good in a land steeped in mystique and mystery. Not surprisingly he was an expert on the culture and the history... not something which was lost on his Chinese contemporaries. Latterly he was an interpreter and guide for visiting politicians to the country... An admirable job which he handled extremely well.

Phillip and I would do the time honoured 'pen pal' thing... He just probably rattling off his prose as he would any other piece and I, in return, would agonise over tone, vocabulary and punctuation to try and match him. We came close to meeting again after he and Sharon had to return to the UK as Sharon had suffered a brain haemorrhage and had the misfortune to continue in the loss of her sight. They settled in Wigtown in Dumfries and Galloway just north of the England/Scottish border where he continued with his beloved writings... By now technology had caught up with Phillip's skills and allowed him to publish on-line blogs. Not only was he into educating the world about the delights of southern Scotland but also doing Sharon's bidding with blogs about 'Sharon's Kitchen' exploits - well worth a read.
We almost got to meet again when we travelled back from a scoot around Ireland and visited Sharon and her mum and sister at the hotel her sister ran with her husband. Phillip sadly was away on one of his last assignments in China where he was escorting a group of American tourists & students. Whilst we were in Wigtown one of Phillip's daily e-mails came through and Sharon's carer read it to us. He had lost none of his spark and even an e-mail to the folks back home was worthy of international publication. Not long after this Phillip contracted Cancer of the Oesophagus which in his spirited way he dealt with and documented as if it were a news story writing blogs of his waiting room and treatment experiences.

I miss his wit and his precise efforts to describe all of his escapades and outings. He was a lovely man and I doubt I shall ever meet someone with his superb command of the language... As I raise a glass of Pimm's to Phillip and Sharon - have a shufty at some of Phillip's excellent blog posts... He never wasted a word!

Note: I looked hard for a photograph of Phillip... but could only find a cover from the book 'Second to None' which he wrote documenting the history of the Hong Kong Volunteers.

http://scotlandssecretsouth.blogspot.co.uk/

http://sharonskitchenworld.blogspot.co.uk/

http://www.wigtownhousehotel.co.uk/

https://www.amazon.com/Second-None-Story-Hong-Volunteers/dp/0195855183?ie=UTF8&*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Sorry for the delay... but a lot has been happening lately

Firstly let me apologise for the delay...Plenty has been happening since that last blog entry - the one with that baleful photo of me back in February, with the baldy scabby thing on my head and the 'helmet'... The helmet! For four months I wore that thing!... It was loud, hot and the term 'tunnel vision' was mentioned more than once.
So anyway the helmet is now a thing of the past - but not before much angst, anger, ineptitude, misdiagnosis, mis-information and a few vets later...  some disappointment and plenty of money... not mine I hasten to add, has been spent. I haven't actually had anything to call my own since my stripey towel disappeared just after I arrived in a box from Crete and was handed over to new uprights in MacDonald's car park in Sevenoaks just off the M25.
I am, as I write this, just finishing a course of anti-itch tablets that cost a hundred quid (GBP). I know!...For a while I thought that the word 'effing' was directly linked with money - you know like pound or dollar... because it was always part of the description... "a hundred effing quid!!". The upright family were astounded... but apparently nodding and just falling into a stunned silence when a vet mentions the cost of a prescription is quite normal until we all get back into the car for the journey home. So anyway I was delighted when I stopped having to scratch every five minutes and especially when a wonder pill arrived in an envelope through the letterbox... It tasted quite nice too. It's called Bravecto... and since then I have felt much stronger, happier and every balding teenager's dream... my hair has started growing again. Dogs can't even do comb-overs so you just have to brave it out in social situations which can be quite agonising... you know, out in crowds and when hoping to chat to other dogs...You don't want to have bald patches being the first thing that others judge you by... especially mangey ones.

By the way... and some of you may already know this... When you need pet medication and you are sure of your requirement and its efficacy you can ask your vet for a prescription (£13 for 3 uses) for a specific product and then source the medication yourself via the internet - where, of course, you can find it for much less. We found Bravecto for £16 when the vet would have charged us  over £30. In Rudy's case we knew that he was having trouble with an allergy to Advocate and its job with him was to combat mites (Demodectic Mange). We understand that Bravecto can really only be prescribed to combat fleas and ticks at the moment - but ongoing trials are proving that it also deals very well with mites... and one treatment lasts for 3 months. Rudy, now that he is on it is doing very well. Only when this aspect of it is officially registered will vets be able to prescribe Bravecto for the treatment of mites... In just a few cases there have been allergic reactions to Bravecto - as with all of these things you may wish to consult your vet before going off piste... With Rudy and the complexity of his condition we became desperate and are now very happy that he is on the road to recovery...

Hi Folks! They still threaten me with 'the hat' if I start nibbling!

So yeh... things are definitely looking up. I have hair growing in all the right places... Yes, even those places! But there is one big worry about that. And I know I have mentioned this bit before and always in a nervous and uncomfortable way. But once I'm clear of my skin problems I will be able to have the castration (ouch!) which until now I've successfully managed to dodge. The uprights here keep saying that I will be much nicer to know when I have had the 'nut job' (their description not mine). Just at the moment I fancy just about everything in sight when I'm out for walks, until I get close up and can see and sniff (I'm sorry it's just what dogs do) whether they are ... well, let's just say - my type. So the chop, pretty soon, is finally inevitable... Shame because I think I would have made a good dad! I'm not sure quite when and where this procedure may be done. Occasionally I am transported to another country where the grass is greener and the land outside the house is bigger and I can run and run. I know I go to see a vet there every trip even though there is nothing wrong with me... she gives me a pill and stamps my passport and charges 40 effing Euros. So this next time I might be going as a health tourist... There's posh!

Just a few teething troubles... but others have suffered far worse...

I've been in the UK for three months now (but I have been on two trips to Brittany too so that's a month in France)... and it's safe to say it's all going well. 

Well... with a couple of tiny reservations... As you can see I am wearing a 'hat'. I am being bathed, pummed; administered with creams, lotions, forced to take potions and pills. All of this is accompanied by a mantra of... "Do you know how much all of this is costing, 'King Dog?"

Fortunately I'm not made to wear this plastic monstrosity when I go out for a walk... Others of my species would ROTFL or whatever is the modern parlance. It would certainly ruin my street cred. And I don't like to use the common name for what I've got, because it makes me feel... well, less than my best (and anyway I prefer its proper name, 'Mycosis', it, at least, has a slightly classier ring to it)... but it's Ringworm - see what I mean? Ugh!! And, whilst it is far from life threatening, it's a bit like having to admit that you've got some sexually transmitted disease... not great for the confidence. But it's important to talk about these things - so that other people know - that, for example, Ringworm is highly contagious... Apparently it's common amongst rescue dogs who have lived in close proximity to others and don't bath often enough. Once I succumb (because I always pretend I don't like to have a bath I really enjoy that squeaky clean feeling. I've heard it said that I might be getting a drying jacket like the Spaniel Sisters, that's Betty & Mabel,  next door.

Anyway, as soon as we got back from France the internet scouring and on-line buying began... A steamer... And everything... and I do mean everything, was steamed to sterility! Apparently the bill for medications is what one of the uprights has called ' 'bleeding stratospheric' whatever that is! I do not like the lampshade/hood thing at all and after each meal I run around the house avoiding all attempts to have it put back on! But I usually get cornered in the hallway by the front door (I must work out the working of these door handle things!).

I still go on two or three walks a day; most often this is the beach when the tide is right... That's when there is space to run on the sand and chase a ball around. I haven't quite worked out why it is that us dogs knuckle under so willingly... someone throws a ball and we just run like hell - what's all that about? I have also been down to the vets a few times - just to get weighed you understand. I'm up to 17.2 kilos now. And I think I was about 7.5kg three months ago, when I arrived. The vets here in Worthing - all young things straight out of vetschool - prescribed some steroid ointment to dab on when the uprights took me there when they first spotted my patchy outbreaks. Me? I lead a charmed life because I have two vets, one in Worthing and one in Brittany  (I know... there's posh!). Madame Otto, my French Vet... actually she is Dutch (and lovely) prescribed some pills to tackle the same problem better than dabbing individual outbreaks as they continue to develop (so much smarter) and it's all going very well now.

Some of you regular readers may remember that I was down for castration (ouch) before I arrived in the UK - but I was too young. Now though, that my voice is breaking - you should hear my bark, I have a few different ones for specific occasions - I am beginning to be too interested (that's what the uprights say) in other dogs. I, of course, call it just being friendly - especially with lady dogs... Anyway there is now a real danger that I will be going in for 'the chop'! Worried? So far it's just a word... I'll let you know. But one of the uprights is making cruel jokes such as how my walk may become a bit more 'girly' and would I soon be liking pink accessories - bowls, blankets and stuff, a new collar and lead etc., ... well he can't insult me - intelligent people have tried!!

See you folks!

And... PS:- Since you've made it this far... you may be barmy enough to want to have a look at my own FaceAche page...
https://www.facebook.com/RudyRescueDog1/?fref=ts