But there it was, making itself at home on our three-month old Newfoundland, Ben.

We peered at it intently and asked each other what it could be (paranoid about anything on Ben's skin after recent bouts with all manner of skin problems and itching). We all agreed that Ben looked decidedly ill. In fact, this thing on his leg (we said to each other) is definitely growing! We told the children not to touch it, because we've NEVER seen anything like it before...

The entire family was horribly upset. I, the real dog-lover, and my husband John, the ever-reasonable one, tried to console the children. Kendra, our 12-year old daughter, wisely elected to stay as far away from Ben as possible, lest she get infected. John, our 9-year old son, could only manage to stutter incomprehensibly in the face of the tragedy. And 7-year old Dana asked his father fearfully if Ben was going to die. John replied in the gravest of tones, "I don't know, my Sweet. We should prepare ourselves for the worst." We phoned up half of Johannesburg and ardently discussed the Thing (capital justified as by this time we were SURE that It was growing - fast). Nobody knew what It could be. We eventually found the Animal Emergency Clinic and hustled accross town, shouting at each other furiously. We missed the turn to the clinic and shouted some more, while making a rubber-burning U-turn.

We raced into the clinic with Ben, filled in forms and sat down all a-flutter to wait for the vet.

But then we looked at Ben. The Thing was gone! Where It had gone we didn't know. Our imaginations ran wild. Had It already found its way through the dog's skin and now might be eating away at his insides? We turned him from side to side, finding nothing. The vet examined Ben and could not find anything amiss. We described The Thing (yeah, two capitals by now) but no, she had never encountered anything like it... Brokenly and very worried, we walked back to the car. We switched on the lights inside and started looking for The Thing.

There It was! Down on the carpet! John carefully picked It up and we examined The Thing closely under the street light.

YES! THIS WAS DEFINITELY THE SAME THING!

We scooped It carefully on to a piece of paper and carried It triumphantly back to the vet (at arm's length). The vet looked at it, picked It up (shudder...), crushed It and made her diagnosis: "Grass Seed."

Crestfallen at first, on the way home the whole family broke up laughing. And carried on laughing until about midnight - we just could not stop. On the whole I would say that an emergency trip to the vet, only to have a grass seed diagnosed, is a wee bit expensive. On the other hand though, you can't find better entertainment for the whole family at that price!

****

Regards from Johannesburg (where the grass is starting to grow again after winter...plenty of seeds but not an Alien in sight).

-- Erika (permanently blushing) and Ben (who's not sure if the Aliens have landed on him or if this family of his is just plain dilly - clever boy!)

SPECIAL THANKS TO ERIKA & FAMILY FOR SHARING THIS STORY WITH PETSTATION
AND TO EVERYONE AT NEWF-L

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