Question: What's the difference between a dog and a dustbin?
Answer: Not a lot. Especially if your name is Wilson.
Who knows what has gone down his gullet - and it's probably better not to ask. Things fowl and fetid certainly - and yes, I have a vague recollection that he was seen licking up 'used' hen food with a fervour usually reserved for collectors of rare and esoteric objects.
As ever it would it ends in tears, or if not in tears, with invoices and £££ signs. Wilson and his aching belly, which rang like a drum, have been to the vet. The vet (hardly out of short trousers) adopts a stern face beyond his years and warns of bloating, twisting stomachs, sudden death. I am alarmed. No punches left unpulled in this practice obviously.
Wilson is x-rayed and endoscoped. There is no obstruction in the throat (hurrah) and what can be seen of the stomach through the mass of herbage he's snarfed as an emetic reveals inflamation. Poor dog. Things will be prescribed.
Wilson of course knows none of this - only what instinct tells him; pain hurts and that dog pharmacopeia leads him to anything green. I wish the other bit of animal wisdom would kick in - lie low and rest.