Rexy and I had always got along fairly well together. At least, she seemed sincerely pleased to see me every time I visited her, and she is not the kind who can pretend convincingly. So when she warned me to keep away from her babies, I thought she was bluffing. Apparently, she was not, and I ended up getting nipped on my ankle. Ouch!
After the incident, my parents explained that new mother dogs were particularly ferocious. Didn’t I know that? Feeling rather stupid for not having caged Rexy before visiting her pups, I went to the doctor who recommended anti rabies vaccination. Three shots if Rexy remained fit and fine within 10 days of biting me, and five if she should die. I prayed on my knees for her long life because 1) I hate injections. Though these were not painful, they gave me no joy either. 2) The vaccinations were quite expensive, and I could easily think of a number of other things to do with the money, and 3) though Rexy probably thought of me as some kind of monster, I c