Within twenty minutes he was on the vets table for a blood test. The most welcome news - ' it's not piroplasmosis '. His stomachs distended, he's clearly in pain, and he's running a high temperature. We rack our brains, unsuccessfully, for any conceivable cause. Last night he was the life and soul of the party hurtling up and down the corridor rug surfing. A series of shots and now home with a course of antibiotics. Wilf is in a deep sleep by the front door . The vets making an appointment with a specialist in Toulouse for the end of the coming week.