My tonsil has been most pesky of late. So pesky it has affected a beagle’s eating ability - the most serious condition a beagle could suffer.

4 weeks ago, shortly after Chilli’s birthday, Mum noticed I was struggling to chew a cocktail sausage. This rang immediate alarm bells, cocktail sausages being the holy grail of beagle snacks and all. As this appeared not to be a one-time occasion, after a few days I was taken to the vet where they diagnosed me with a sore throat and sent me home with an anti-inflammatory and an instruction to eat soft food (Btw, Best. Vet. Visit. Ever).

A week later and back we went again, my pain no better. This time I was suspected of having something called masticatory muscle myositis… inflammation of jaw muscles which would require 6 months of steroids. Now, while the thought of having a six-pack sounded appealing, the instruction that I would require additional food to satisfy an increased appetite sounded even better. However, Mum said her wallet was mightily relieved some days later to discover this was not the cause of my pain at all.

On the morning I was meant to start my steroids, I woke up with a little dried blood around my mouth. This was key apparently, and I was rushed back to the vet and made to feel very sleepy while they prodded around inside my mouth. At this point, my tonsil was identified as the troublemaker and I was referred to yet another vet so they could carry out a CT scan to check I had nothing stuck where it shouldn’t be.

Through rush hour traffic on a Friday evening, Mum drove my sleepy self some 2 hours where we encountered some very nice people who took pity on me, said nice things to a beagle and stroked my paw as I nodded off once again. This time I was scanned inside and out, with nothing untoward being discovered, not even that frozen garlic baguette that I noshed a few years ago and Mum is still convinced is rattling around inside of me.

With this good news confirmed, it was back to the important job of making my tonsil better and so I was hooked up to some strong painkillers and antibiotics and moved onto a ward, to be kept under close observation. Here I was looked after by some very nice nurses who fortunately lent me a hospital gown, thanks to Mum forgetting to pack my pyjamas in the rush to get me here.

Now I am back home and, after a further week on antibiotics, I am most definitely back to full beagle strength. The oven has been checked, Mum again has no room in bed and my eating ability has returned to full strength.

I am very ‘au fait’ with the vets now, so confident in fact that I even help out on reception from time to time.

One more follow up with my vet this evening, followed by another with the ‘special vet’ far far away next week, and I will be hoping to be fully discharged from all medical necessities.

The longer I can stay away from that bottom poking thermometer, the better I say.

Stay well everyone,

Love Ben