My daughter Ashley fell a few weeks ago when her trainer caught on the escalator of the underground tube train station and hurt herself. At the time it was just her knee that seemed to take the blow. But since that first week of December when the fall happened she has had chronic back pain.

 

She convinced herself she was dying of liver or kidney failure or ‘back cancer’ as she called it. This morning we went to the doctor (who has since stopped saying mmm…mmm…over the top of me speaking) and it seems Ashley has muscle spasms due to the fall and is now on anti-inflammatory drugs to help ease the pain.

 

Meanwhile we have convinced husband that we deserve to own a puppy.

He is distraught as he never really liked having animals around. He is not cruel to them, he just isn’t as enamoured by pets as Ashley and I are.

 

So we were all sitting on the sofa and Ashley talked me into getting a dog as husband made a whole orchestral arrangement of noises like tutting and huffing.

 

As I got more eager Ashley blurted out “I am not even going to get a fucking sea monkey out of this conversation am I?”

 

“Yes, we are getting a wee dog” I assured her.

 

Husband went foetal.

 

“Can we call it William Shatner?” she pleaded

 

“Yes, we are getting a dog and calling it William Shatner” I assured her.

 

So I am going to cat and dog home to get a puppy or a wee dog.

 

Watch this space.