Of Tetanus and A&E

Inoculations have been on my mind. Hoping to avoid a repeat of the typhoid incident from Vietnam earlier in the year, I had been considering getting jabs for the trip to the Golden Triangle. The celestial beings decided on a little canine intervention. This evening I agreed to walk Annette's two dogs, Oxford the Dalmation and Ralph the Husky. As I let them out of her apartment, Oxford decided in his excitement to have a nibble on my arm.  He sunk his teeth in and then shook it like I was a rabbit at the end of the hunt, leaving four rather interesting incisor-shaped wounds. Having realised it was me, Oxford, suddenly stopped gobbling and wagged his tail and was only too happy to be leashed for walkies. Arriving back home looking like Bruce Willis in Die Hard, blood streaming down my forearms, Kate treated me like a World War I victim. Our apartment now smells like a Dettol factory. Nonetheless, a trip to A&E for a tetanus jab had to be done. The nurse, who called herself "Trister", did not seem to get the joke when she asked me if I could dress myself and I said I usually start with my shirt and had been doing so for years. I expect massive sympathy from the locals when I emerge from the jungle with bandages and a bloodstained vest and backpack.