In the old flat, Cleodhna would often warn me not to wheel my chair back, lest I back over the paws of some dog that was lying there.
Laszlo was lying behind my chair just now. I tried to wheel my chair back. I couldn't. Laszlo's paws were in the way.
New flat wins.
(According to the vet today, Laszlo is down from 42kg to 41kg, a perfect weight for a dog of his age and breed; his only problem is that his jaws are so strong that he destroys chew-treats too easily, before they've had a chance to scrape off some of the plaque that's building up on his teeth. Berkeley could afford to lose a kilo or two, but probably not three, as I understood it, and has perfect teeth. Neither of them have anything else wrong with them. Makes me wonder why we pay for pet insurance.)
