Working in secure nursing / forensic care units

Not supposed to have “favourites” when it comes to nursing but we all have them and for me, it’s always the people everyone else fiercely dislikes and finds too hard work to deal with.

One such guy was “Howard” who on my life is so like Wild Bill it’s eerie and makes me belly laugh at the same time. Howard’s early life was really quite tragic. He served more than 20yrs in total for three separate sex offences (two violent rapes) and was in his mid 50’s when someone either suspected and asked for tests or just happened to notice in routine samples taken he had an absurdly high level of testosterone which along with a personality disorder had been a horrible mix and led him to do what he did.

He was unable to be rehabilitated nor was he ever going to be safe in the community so he was instead transferred into a residential secure facility on the unit I managed.

Howard typically lived to instil fear and get a reaction out of staff. He was relatively harmless by that point but had an intimidating manner, was very sneaky, manipulative and unnerving habit of leaving his room in the dead of night, hiding out quietly in the dark and then jumping out and cornering unsuspecting staff doing their routine checks at 2am or whatever.

He never worried nor bothered me. We reached an understanding quickly and he for some reason called me “The big bitch with a tea-cake face” but why and what the hell a tea-cake face is I will never know. Made me laugh all the same.

When I was on duty during a late or night shift, he grumbled and griped and bitched to no end. “Does that bitch never go home?”

That said I think he secretly quite liked it because I would cut him more slack, leave the swipe lock system off on his bedroom door so that he was able to use the bathroom if need be BUT it was on the understanding he didn’t dick around and try my patience.

He always dicked round and tried my patience and I always knew he would but still we had this weird love / hate relationship and I did have genuine fondness and affection for him.

One night all was quiet and Howard was seen to be flat out asleep on all checks until about 3am. I heard two personal emergency buzzers going nuts and piercing screeching from the two girls doing rounds.

Legged it upstairs and found two Filipino nurses squeezed tightly into the top of a linen cupboard about 10ft off the ground and Howard laughing demonically trying to clamber up after them.

Me – “OI WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??? GET DOWN AND COME WITH ME NOW!!!”

“Do you never fuck off and go home?”

“NOPE.  NEVER.  I LOVE IT HERE SO MUCH I DON’T EVEN GET PAID TO DO THESE NIGHT SHIFTS I’M HERE PURELY FOR THE LOVE AND JOY.  Now go on… travel”

“Tea-cake face… anyway I weren’t doing nowt I only wanted an extra pillow”

I went in and did the face and shouty angry Mum stance “Howard why do you keep this going?  I’m loathe to turn on the pressure sensor mats and lock the doors because you should be able to get up, mooch in your own room and go to the bathroom if you need to but I’m not having you frightening the girls.  It’s not on and if you don’t play fair you and I are gonna fall out.

I’m gonna turn on the pressure sensors but will leave your door cos I don’t like locking it. Will you promise not to play any more of this crap?   I swear if you pull one more trick I will shut you in here all night”

He promised. I told all the other staff if his nurse call buzzer went off to leave it and let me go.

He didn’t keep his promise and within ten mins he’d by-passed the sensor mats and was quietly sneaking out of his bedroom when I cheerily went “Hello Howard” cos knowing that’s what he’d do,  I’d pulled up a chair and small table outside his bedroom door and sat writing up my notes.  He was livid.

We had another two or three attempts until I had enough, put the swipe card lock on his room and can still hear him kicking the back of his door “DON’T YOU LOCK ME IN HERE!! HELP!! SOMEONE HELP HELP SHE’S MURDERING ME!!!!”

Shut up Howard you’ve shagged it.  Not dicking about with you. Goodnight and God bless – buzz me if you need anything.

“NO!!! BIG BITCH LEMME OUT WWWAAAAAARGGGHH!!!!!”

He had the most vile habits of smearing excrement all over his room and would frequently cover himself in time for meds rounds. Nearly always pretended he was batshit and unable to understand anything staff said.

One morning I went in “Morning sweet got your pills for you” and there he was with every possible bodily fluid and function on the bed linen, walls, in his hair and he held out an outstretched hand (full of shit) for his medication.

“Let’s not do this. It’s me for a start and I’m working a double today so… do you want these pills on your beside cabinet or in your hand?”

He shoved his hand again and made a grunt like a Neanderthal so I popped both tablets into the pile of shit he was holding, he slammed them down his throat and covered his face in shit too.

I smiled, signed off the drug sheets, wandered off casually then got round the corner, bent over and belly laughed as quietly as possible.  Did not think he’d take it that far but he did and I could hear him cursing me out from his room and talking about the big bitch that never goes home.

We then had to wrestle as I got him showered off in the wet room and he continually tried to pull me under the shower head and get me wet through but I’d been in the job for a while already and knew the drill.  You apron up, frisk yourself of everything from pockets, don paper shoes and shower cap and go in there with the attitude of a winner.

Next time I was on duty he smirked, winked and said “Fair play big bitch” 😉

It’s really difficult trying to explain to someone who has never worked in this type of job how you can develop a genuine fondness for the most annoying, vile, quite dangerous and threatening person like that. I see Wild Bill annoying the crap out of everyone “Hey hey! Careful with that.. that’s fragile. HEY WHAT’S IT NOW MOVING DAY?” and think of Howard.

His fake fit and the way it lasts long enough until he’s unceremoniously slung into the booth then yells with indignation that all he wanted was corn bread.

The Moon Pie trick was his attempt at playing “I’m batshit” and the “I’M READY TO GO! WHERE WE GOING LET’S GO!!” then “NO!! NO!!! as he’s dragged off is Howard being made to stay in his room so he can’t terrorise that little Filipino with the nice ass.

Howard died suddenly and entirely unexpectedly one afternoon when I was on annual leave.  Felt really sad I’d not been at work but made it my business to gut and get all his personal belongings and vile remains of whatever he’d left around then everything was given a full deep clean top to bottom and the room left empty for a week to air out and allow for new bed linen, furnishings and carpet to be fitted.

Found a small notebook with names and dates which we worked out was the staffing rota.

Crafty sod had at some point managed to find out who was gonna be on duty in advance and seemingly used it to plan his little terrorist campaign.

Fair play Howard…  Shitters trick but fair play 😉

Those of you currently studying to qualify as health care / social workers and nurses should understand your job will be gross, the clientele even worse and you shouldn’t ever go to work in expensive clothing, jewellery or expect to be given a single bit of thanks.

You’ll get the odd one or two along the way but mostly you’ll be sworn at, called all sorts and literally start to live your life trying to preempt, outsmart and beat the likes of Howard and Wild Bill at their own game.

It’s a fantastic job though I promise 🙂

Dementia talk and training

I’m prepping and planning the talk and training session someone saw fit to invite me to give and having always used a lot of role play during training I give to staff, it’s something I also want to incorporate here because it helps people really understand so much more when you provide examples of real life, everyday scenarios and problems commonly encountered.

I will tone things down for this event however it’s different when I’m training staff I know, have worked with or currently work with and alongside because they know me, my sense of humour and understand I’m not taking the piss and being disrespectful (absolutely never the case I promise)

However I decided to revisit some clips of Teepa Snow for ideas about scenarios and role play that needs to be touched on and came across one of my favourites.

The example of someone shadowing is spot on and I love “Shadowing…. ooooh the shadowing”

The reason I include dementia and issues carers have is because it increases the risk of becoming a situation that can see abuse and safeguarding involvement which is almost never due to malice, deliberate neglect or mistreatment. I despise hearing people judge carers when there is some issue with a loved one that’s been flagged up because there is no harder job on Earth than being a full time sole carer of a loved one.

I couldn’t do it. I’ve worked in this area for years and I’m telling you there’s no way I could cope with being the sole carer 24hrs a day without any support or respite. Often towards the end of a shift I’d find myself getting weary and starting to feel irritated with someone. You’re human it’s the most natural thing to start losing patience after so long but that’s the point staff go – “Can you go and see to Mrs Smith for me I’m getting ratty now”

It’s what I explain to people who are the subject of a safeguarding alert and I stress to them when we visit and follow it up they’re not in trouble, they’re not being accused or judged or anything of the sort. We’re there to help them and try getting the right support and giving them the break they need and the extra people coming in to share the load and let them take time out.

Whenever people start really having a go and judging a carer who may have lost their rag and been a little heavy handed, I’m quick to chip in and remind them how hard their job is.

Nobody who has ever worked in the community and experienced even for short periods what it’s like will ever take that attitude towards a stressed carer.

Not every care giver struggles to that extent and becomes so stressed things take a turn but those that do are absolutely at the end of their rope and need help.

“I don’t know how someone could do that to Mum / Dad / whatever I’d NEVER do that!

“Have you done it?”

“Well no but – “

“Shut up then you have no idea how hard it is”

Professional proper post coming up…

Hold onto your tits and tackle for this one… Professional and “proper” post coming through.

I have been invited to a health and social care conference later this year as a guest speaker providing my yap’s worth on care compliance, leadership, management and training.

Kind of like a TED talk but for adult social care services.

Me.

 

 

 

 

 

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE 😀

And you all thought I was just about childishness, dogs, parental negligence, casual racism and potty mouthed posts.

You’re not wrong but I do more than that.

Watch this space.

Quiet night shift…

Found old pics on a USB with Hannah and I dicking around and dressing up during a long, quiet night shift.

Sometimes came to work with me on nights and if it was quiet we ended up doing all sorts of stupid shit to pass the time.

Favourite things included making chips in the big super deep fryer, sorting through old, unclaimed or unwanted clothes and trying stuff on, taking pics of us wearing said clothes and the whole ideas and games just getting sillier and more ridiculous by the minute.

Quiet night shifts are such a rare event and anyone that ever worked nights in a care home or hospital will be sat nodding and giving a little high-five “We hear you Sista…we hear and we know”

photoshoot

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My handover at the end of a long night shift.

“OK ladies quick walk through then I’m outta here.

Mrs Smith… fine

Mrs Jones… fine.  

Mr Applebottom… fine.  

The hell am I going down the list for?! :/   Everyone’s fine, fed, watered, alive and written up I’m not standing her like a penis reading out 50+ names of people all of whom are fine.

Can’t remember what I have going in the laundry.  Might be two wash-loads in and one drying?   Dunno just go in the laundry you’ll see what’s there. 

Check pockets…Pens… Pens.. someone’s lighter… pencil.  Aha!!  Drug keys are all yours.  

*Scribbles “Karen has got… fucking keys…Suck my ass” 

Later taters”

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These are my gents

I’ve looked after older people for the best part of 20yrs and during that time have met countless people like Louis Zamperini whose stories go largely unknown and untold.

Genuinely consider it a huge privilege to have met these people and been able to hear their horrifying, sometimes incredible and truly inspiring accounts first-hand.

Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking older people are boring, dull and lifeless with nothing much to offer the world.   Better still – volunteer and meet them whilst they are still around to share their stories so you can listen and learn in person.  Their stories are such you’d think them too far fetched for a film.

I see movies like this and smile proudly thinking These are my gents 🙂 

Dementia, safeguarding, assessments and the way forward

Many years ago sometime in the mid-late 90s when I was a junior legal secretary and working part time with the community care crisis team, I was fobbed off and ignored by a psychiatrist whose total disregard for a patient and utter contempt for me, was one of the main reasons I ended up going down the path of safeguarding vulnerable adults / managing dementia care.

I’d been asked to sit with a lady whose family were bereft at her supposedly having gone mad overnight and keep her safe until she was assessed by mental health.   For a full hour she described the most bizarre and incredible hallucinations mostly seeing a little girl in Victorian dress, sunflowers that would grow and completely surround us both and a little black and white dog I seemed to think she saw in the form of a springer spaniel.

“Ethel” was an intelligent lady and said she knew the girl and dog weren’t real because she’d been leaning to try and touch them both of which would disappear as soon as she did.  Once or twice she went “Ooh the little dog’s there – can you see him?” 

“I can’t see him no… what is he doing though what can you see?”

“Well he’s just sat there lovely thing but look when I lean to stroke him.  Gone.  He’s gone again they always go when I try to touch them that’s why I know they’re not real”

Even then as a very young and inexperienced teenager, I knew she wasn’t “mad” in the sense.  Her vivid descriptions of what she saw were by far the most bizarre thing I’d ever heard and reminded me of experiences with LSD but she seemed lucid and clear as a bell.   Ethel herself even suggested the hallucinations she was having might have been linked to a recent operation she’d had and was still wearing a patch from.  “My son thinks I’ve lost my marbles he’s the one that rang for you to come here and see if I’m doolally but I’m not love.. honestly I’m all there it’s just my eyes playing tricks”

Consultant psychiatrist arrived speaking in a very thick Asian accent and broken English (Ethel was Scottish too so you can imagine how that one went!!) but despite me trying to explain the conversations we’d had for the last hour, he wasn’t about to have a kid tell him his job and in one quick scribbled signature, she was admitted to the secure mental health unit for older people.   I have never nor will I ever forget that lady and how she pleaded and begged the psychiatrist (and me) to believe her and she wasn’t going mad.   I doubt she will ever have returned home to her flat and will probably have lived out the rest of her days in care pilled up the eyeballs to keep her quiet and manage what was nothing more than her eyes playing tricks.

The long, short and horrible truth is that very few people gave the tiniest toss for older people.  It’s what set me down the path and how / why I ended up working specifically in dementia care and safeguarding vulnerable adults

When I read about “Charles Bonnet Syndrome” some years later it broke my heart to realise that’s what Ethel was suffering from and even she knew it was linked to her sight but back during the 90’s we lived in a very different world when it came to care of older people.  I have known people being very close to misdiagnoses due to CBS as recently as last year however so we’re still in urgent need of educating those that think they’re beyond the capacity to learn anything more.  *Never trust anyone that really takes the view they know all there is to know or can’t learn something from a mere member of public, younger person or unqualified carer.  That’s the height of stupidity and ignorance right there.

The video and TED talk with Oliver Sacks is outstanding and worth setting aside 20 mins to watch with a brew.

I later began teaching staff in dementia care and used my own little way of getting points over acting out roles  to really emphasise the point which everyone loved and said was so much better and they found much more useful than other training sessions / tutors (former actress with national youth and musical theatre don’t you know luvvies!!)  For a while I reserved that teaching style for staff I worked with and knew well not expecting the wider world to understand or find remotely amusing but then I discovered the brilliant “Teepa Snow” whose style and methods are very similar to that of mine.  Again another longer clip but if you get comfy with a brew and a biscuit, she’s well worth the 20 mins talking about dementia here here

Anyway for years I been using this this toolkit published and available to download by Alzheimer’s Society – a brilliant organisation with whom I have been working, helping and don’t intend to appear like I’m ripping on with this.  Far from it they have my utmost respect but can only work with what they have so don’t have the luxury of being able to chop and change the way I have during assessments.  I only make variations to some of the questions based on each person and my understanding of their general knowledge, abilities and limitations.

Nevertheless the toolkit is outdated, irrelevant in many ways and doesn’t always take into account the huge differences people with dementia have – indeed a few professionals don’t even have an understanding that there are many types of dementia – the word being a general umbrella term to describe many types.  It’s like someone being diagnosed with “cancer” of which there are countless types all requiring specific treatment.

You can’t write “has cancer” and expect it to offer a clear, accurate diagnosis or even adequate level of care, support and treatment.

 So within reason I have been making minor adjustments to how I assess and sad thing is we’re not supposed to improve or change things on the hop but it’s so unrealistic and unfair.

There is little room for error – even correct ones and I question whether it’s appropriate for external professionals to be calling it based mostly on just their very brief period of time with someone they may have never met before and without consultation with family, friends or carers.

One lady “J” I used to look after suffered from severe Parkinson’s and was being written off something shocking by a GP who came out to see her, decided to do an on the spot assessment and was scoring her down like he was being paid a tenner to fail her on each question.

“J” was difficult to understand at the best of times but once you knew her, you could understand and converse without any problem. She was a nervous lady and at just 61yrs of age was very young and one of the first and few people to be fitted with an apomorphine pump.  Having an impatient doctor she could barely understand looming above her didn’t help (not sat informally he literally stood over her as she lay in bed stiffened from seizures)

He asked what year it was and she slowly stuttered “Twenty…. two thousand” and he interrupted with a loud scribble on his papers muttering “OK so she is confused as to time and place” and I went “Whoa whoa hang fire – she knows what year it is let her finish” and he said “But she answered that it was the year twenty and then two thousand”

I smirked and went “You’re kidding right??” then leaned in and said to a really terrified looking J “It’s OK sweet don’t worry we’ll do that one again.  What year are we in at the minute?”

“Twenty seventeen… or two thousand seventeen… not sure which is the right way to say it”   I gave her the double thumbs up and went “Nailed it”

He asked her to “point to the one which is a marsupial” and she went “A what?”

The term “Marsupial” was one she’d never heard of before – not everyone will so again I chipped in “Which might you associate with the word “Skippy” and without missing a beat “The kangaroo”

“Which two objects are musical?” (Harp and accordion straight away)

Which object is nautical?”  (“What?  What’s Nautical?”)

“Linked to the ocean – ”

She answered before I could finished with “Penguin” which technically wasn’t wrong  – ocean and penguin do go together so I re-worded the question and asked “Which is linked to sailing / the Navy” and straight away “Oh – Anchor”

Bearing in mind this assessment has been completed with vascular dementia many of whom can’t take in and process information that way.   I have Dyscalculai (number dyslexia) and get major brain overload if hit with information I neither need nor can work with.  I like it short, sweet, simple and for that reason understand how horrible and frustrating it is to be bombarded with lengthy complex instruction.

One of my all time “favourite” residents (even though I’m not supposed to have favourites but it’s impossible not to with people like her) was Phyllis who had vascular dementia and like many would get flustered and flummoxed.    I used to joke that when she got herself wound up she sounded like Mr Jelly all “Lloobboooblbooo!!” thinking the world’s going to end when a leaf brushes the window which had her in fits of giggles because she knew I adored her and agreed she did “get my knicks in a twist”

I’ve been in the job a long while and like to think I get the best from people by approaching things in a way that works best for them.  I couldn’t joke and banter with everyone the way I could with Phyllis and vice versa but if you molly-coddled her too much it made her worse and the bawling gave way to actual tears and distress so you had to stop her in her tracks before she go run away with herself.

Ask if she wanted to wear a blue jumper because it will go nice with the tartan skirt and necklace or the pink top that will match her beige skirt and pearls… She’d never answer that in a million years without collapsing into tears.

Quite often she’d start telling you she doesn’t know anything anyway so you’d need to stop her – pick both tops up and in a nice loud and clear voice “Phyllis!!  Which one? Blue or Pink?”

“Pink”

So when Phyllis had a visit from the same impatient GP I made sure I was there during the assessment.   He visited with a young OT who was pleasant enough and very nice towards but got her in a pickle from the from the outset reading long paragraphs of text directly from the page and confusing me as well.

“Phyllis I am going to give you a name and address. After I have said it, I want you to repeat it. Remember this name and address because I am going to ask you to tell it to me again in a few minutes: John Brown, 42 West Street, Kensington”

Phyllis burst into “I can’t remember anything I’ll never answer that I don’t anything me I just don’t – “

Me – “OK stop stop stop.  Phyllis.  Remember this – “Mr Smith, High Street, Town” Say it with me first (she said it with me no problem)  “OK try and remember I’ll ask you in a tick”

She said tearfully she’d never remember (always did) but I chipped in and with very little prompting save for gestures with my hand to indicate she was right and could keep going she recalled the name and address.

To satisfy the GP and OT we did the name and address from the assessment – same way allowing her a bit of extra time and patience – she nailed it.

They were about to score her down for being unable to recall the last year of the second world war until I gestured for them to give her a minute or so.  The second world war ended a long while ago she’d slept since then and her brain wasn’t up to pulling facts and figures out the back so easily.

She correctly answered but here’s the interesting thing.

The question directly after is “Who is the present monarch” and Phyllis – as others have done answered “King George” which to be honest impresses me every time.

I’d struggle to answer that without a few mins and a quick search on Google so when she was being marked down, I chipped in and pointed out she’d just had her brain go digging in the back of the store room to recall info from WWII so with the question straight after relating to the monarchy, it’s not completely unreasonable for her to have answered the monarch back then rather than now.  The OT got what I meant and nodded “Ahhh yeah of course” so allowed me to reword it.

“It was King George you’re right but who is the present Monarch – who’s on the throne now?”  “Oh ermmm… Elizabeth”

So later this year one of my oldest and closest friends and I are going to sit down and look atthe assessment toolkit from scratch.

She is a highly esteemed clinical psychologist and therapist, one of only a handful qualified to teach a very unique form of intensive therapy and assistant professor at a university in Canada.

I have formed alliances with friends and colleagues (past and present) many of whom are in a great position to help get things brought right up to date – three are OT’s, two physios and the rest a nice mix of social workers and registered managers.  Without collective clout, qualification and expertise anything put forward to give clinical toolkit a revamp will be worth minus four jack-diddly-squats.

That said without the hands on, direct care experience of health care assistants, friends, family and others not considered to be knowledgeable enough to be worth listening to – changes to assessment toolkit aren’t worth diddly either.

I volunteer as a dementia friend, champion and offer informal training to care home staff so have already invited people to bombard me with their views, thoughts and opinions whatever they are but there are always going to be things missed and not even give a thought unless and until.  Those not already familiar with or following Kate Swaffer should pay her a visit as it was a recent post of hers that prompted this.

Much is based on individual experiences but that’s what counts.  I would love to hear from anyone that has a thing or two to chip in with – even if it’s just to vent and release similar stories.

I’m all ears and can only promise everything will be given due time and attention to see how we an work it and at the end of this year, I’ll bring everything to what will be long weekend sat pouring over the assessments and trying to drag it kicking and screaming into 2020

The good thing is we’ve come a long way since back when I escorted Ethel to the mental health unit as an unqualified “bit of kid” as was the term used to describe me.

Minimum care standards and safeguarding policy stepped things up and the more recent introduction of mental capacity / deprivation of liberty safeguards  came into play and have at least made sure we don’t see more cases of Ethel or young, unqualified carers ignored as standard.

Still having some problems with MCA / DoLS assessments and such but we will never have perfection nor the need to stop doing everything to improve.

My son has many health and learning disabilities including sensory processing disorder which affects the way his brain “sees” and processes information to the extent the lead Occupational Therapists asked for permission to use his assessment and results as part of training.   She had never seen anyone whose brain processed information the same way and it was so unique I understand his task of copying the Olympic rings is currently rolling around on handouts given during training.

Sam spent ages drawing an outline of what looked like a flower and then filled in curves and lines inside of it.  Took him ten minutes after which he was asked to describe the shapes and asked if he recognised the image as circles overlapping.  Only when it was pointed out did he go “Oh yeah… I didn’t see it like that until now”

Sam was failed miserably and referred to specialists so late the OT went nuts and said he was too old for therapy and the best she could offer was support for him in the shape of extra time and use of laptops, aids and adaptations to make his life easier whilst studying and whilst she diagnosed severe dyspraxia when he was 11yrs old, he was only formally diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome at 16yrs following five years being home-schooled because the local authority refused to accept the level of difficulty he would have being placed in a failing secondary school with nearly 2000 pupils about thirty of which had already bullied him relentlessly throughout primary school.

I knew Sam would struggle with a considerable part of the cognitive assessments used for older people so got him to complete the tests with me.

His score was dire.  He’s absurdly intelligent with a daft high IQ but were he not 17yrs of age and a borderline genius he’d have been misdiagnosed for sure.

The questions regarding the former female prime minister and current prime minister caught him out because the current PM is female.  He also tripped up re: name of US president and the one assassinated during the 60’s – initially answering Kennedy for both then backpedaling having realised his mistake.

What made him screw his face up like he’d just taken a swig of last week’s milk?

“WTF is a marsupial?” 

 

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It’s so hot I just saw the dog chasing a cat…

…and both were walking.

Not one for the obligatory posting about the weather but I just had a little visitor rock up in my kitchen in the form of an old Yorkshire Terrier “Leo”

Leo lives at the end of our lane on a private dirt track road with his owner “B” who is an elderly lady suffering from dementia. We’ve had Leo rock up at ours a few times after B inadvertently shut the front door whilst he was still outside and he kind of makes his way to ours if he’s stuck knowing the two big dogs we have are friendly after all – still curls up into the tiniest ball and rolls onto his back “Don’t get me big dogs please!!!” but thankfully neither of my dogs are in the least bit aggressive so he’s good.

In fact it was Puddi’s super friendly “I’ll roll with you” that just alerted me to Leo being round the side of ours near the pens cos I was walking back carrying a bucket, nearly tripped over Pud and went “What’you doing – ooh hello Leo!!”

His owner bless her hadn’t a clue she was walking around carrying a lead in her hand but minus the dog so my Son Sam kindly picked Leo up and walked them back home.

This weather always brings with it the need to keep an eye on older, vulnerable people who can become ill easily in this heat but those with pets I guess need even extra care and pairs of eyes.

Leo had an adventure a few months wandering further than he normally would and being picked up by some roofers working on a property who kindly took him to the nearest vets and handed him in. Fortunately it’s our vet and they were happy enough for us to go pick Leo up and bring him back home.

I didn’t have his papers to hand so couldn’t confirm all his details but the practice manager laughed “Nah you’re border collie people you won’t have much use for a fat little Yorkie eh?”

They were good enough to include my contact details on Leo’s record as a backup in case he’s handed in again and they can’t contact B which is good but not all veterinary practices would do that (not sure they’re supposed to really but we are added as a footnote with a little explanation)

Sadly dementia doesn’t get any better and B looks to have deteriorated since the day we took Leo home from the vets and I scouted out her circumstances at home to make sure she has support.   She has carers that visit often and my husband has seen them quite regularly which is good – she’s at least having someone actually going into her house and making sure she’s OK.

Even still I’m now worried that Leo might end up shut out again in this weather so have left the back gate and the patio doors wide open so if he goes on the wander again he at least has a place of safety, shade and big dish of fresh drinking water.

So if you happen to have elderly neighbours especially with pets – please just give them a quick look in and make sure they’re all OK.

 

 

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