Isis rides the chaos

Posted on May 26, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Sunday May 26th 2024

 

I have an enduring picture of our Isis from this week.

She is in the orchard, where we meet Yasmin, Blitzi and John K. They are sitting on a log, and I am standing up talking to them, when a group of youngsters with profound learning difficulties approaches with their carers.

Blitzi, who loves children, tries to engage with them, hoping for a fuss. He wags his tail and takes little jump steps towards them, but they are afraid and back away, shrinking close to their carers.

Hairy One walks over, and to my surprise, stands just in front of the children. One by one, each child bends down and gently touches Isis’s hair. Even one boy who, his carer afterwards tells me, is terrified of dogs, gives her a quick stroke. One lad has to be restrained from grasping a bunch of her hair, but she stands still, allowing them to touch her.

The carers thank us and say that this has been a very good experience for the children. She even says a special thank you to Isis!

I am very impressed with my Isis. This is very unusual behaviour for her, as usually she avoids being touched, however gently, except by Bev and Human.

It’s as though she senses that the young people are vulnerable, and I remember my friend Maureen, who visited me last year when I’d just had my hip operation and was on crutches, remarking, “Do you realise how careful that dog is being around you, waiting for you to walk through the doors in front of her, and leaving space around you?”

I hadn’t realised, but she was right. Isis was being very careful, and continued to be until I was able to abandon the crutches.

As I mentioned last week, she is not so careful of my hands when I am placing her left foot, then the rest of her into her harness. I thought that she had got the message that we don’t dive at Human’s hands, but no such luck. Although as soon as I drop the harness, and “I-SIS” her, she becomes compliant.

Now I always put her harness on in the hall rather than the porch because, historically, the porch pre-walk has always been the signal for leaping around and feinting hand nips. It’s just that nowadays there’s more nipping and less feinting.

To be fair, I think it’s my fault: you may remember that the first time she wore the harness, I made a mess of putting it on her, and tangled her up in it to such an extent that it took almost thirty minutes to extricate her.

I need to use this particular harness because it’s the only one I could get which serves as an anchor in the car, and as a walking harness.

It’s quite heavy, and I’ve left it in the car for our last few walks, just using the lead. She likes this, and since she doesn’t pull, it’s an easy thing to do. True, I can’t tug her if she does one of her stand up or sit down strikes, but a nudge of the bottom serves as a reminder that we are supposed to be walking.

We go to all our usual haunts this week: Kings Heath Park, Highbury Park, Holders Woods and the winding lanes around Jasmin Fields. We also have a merry stop-sniff walk around the block.

Yesterday, and it’s not raining – no, really it isn’t. I decide to give my shaggy front hedge a quick haircut, and get out the shears. But to my annoyance, I can’t find the my secateurs, which I need for the thickest stems.

They should be in the kitchen.

They’re not.

Alternatively, they are in the understairs cupboard, just near the door.

They’re not.

I become very annoyed and frustrated, and throw all the stuff, accumulated and unsorted over many years, out into the hall.

I still don’t find the secateurs, and the hall is piled with unspeakable rubbish. There are mouldy shoes, disintegrating mountain walking boots, dozens of shoe laces, spare bicycle inner tubes, dead flourescent bulbs, covies of deceased woodlice, and a few mummified flies. There are strips of what look like counter edgings, brittle and discoloured, screws, nails, plastic bags, new paint rollers, a sealant gun, a workshop vacuum, a wallpaper stripper, and merrily rolling tins of shoe polish. Firmly interwoven among this revolting miscellany, is a tall metal shoe rack, whose shelves drop off as I look at them, and weave themselves firmly into the surrounding mix.

I have to walk over the undulating heaps in order to get in and out of the cupboard, thus risking breaking my neck.

At the height of the chaos, Isis naturally, decides that it is imperative to walk up and down the hall from the back room to the front room. I quickly remove the saws and screwdrivers which are projecting from the piles, and she strolls confidently over the rest as though nothing has happened.

It’s good to have a calm dog when everything else is falling apart.

 

 Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

Posted in a very good dog, a very naughty dog, clever girl, clever Isis, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, Holders Lane Woods, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, Isis says "No"., Jasmin Fields, Kings Heath Park, oh dear, park people, rain and more rain, scenting, these dogs!, Uncategorized, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

goodbye dear Nancy

Posted on May 19, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Sunday May 19th 2024

 

I am very sad to write that all of Nancy’s physical problems have defeated her at last, and she had to be put to sleep today.

Bev and Tony are heartbroken.

The first time I ever saw her, she had not yet had her vaccinations, and was in Bev’s arms in Kings Heath Park wriggling vigorously, all long black hairy legs, like an indignant tarantula.

She was thirteen, and a character all of her life. She was also the sweetest natured dog you could hope to meet. In spite of this, she once saw off a burglar who had not woken up either Tony or her brother Rufus, who were sleeping close by. She shot out of the french door and pursued him to the garden wall which he managed to scramble over just in time to escape.

She loved other dogs, especially puppies, but would defend Isis immediately if an aggressive dog approached her.

I will miss her too.

This is one of my favourite photos of Nancy and Rufus.

 

 

 

 

 

He was not always a very gentle big brother, but she was always a very resilient dog!

 

*****

 

Although over the last few weeks the sun shines on poor Isis virtually every day, she is still enjoying her walks. True, she sometimes needs a little encouragement to get going. She must be getting on for eleven/twelve by now, and I feel that I must take this into account, and not push her to walk too far; however, I am reminded this week that too far seems to vary enormously, depending on where we walk and how many new scents there are.

We cover all of her regular walks this week: Kings Heath Park, Highbury Park and Holders Lane. On Sunday I think she’ll be bored in Kings Heath Park, but I forget that she’s not been here for several days, during which time a multitude of new scents have been deposited. So many, in fact, that we spend over ninety minutes wandering around wherever she leads us.

We go to Holders Lane twice. She has to be prompted to set off, but this is not unusual. For some reason, she is never keen to walk down the main path, but perks up as soon as we reach the track which runs alongside the allotments, where the strong scents seem to be.

It’s a warm day, and I decide that we’ll go back to the car when we reach the main path. But she doesn’t want to, and trots pointedly along to the second bridge, to where the track along the river Rea begins. This is her favourite walk. The river is in full spate, and although she has never put a paw wrong, I am still watchful as she navigates her way confidently along the twists and turns.

Although we have walked this walk numerous times, I still marvel at her sure footedness. At one point, where the bank seems to have eroded more each time we pass it, there is barely room for my feet, even one at a time! I bend to reach her collar to guide her along the six inches of remaining earth, but she walks onto a large, flattened plant in the hedgerow to her left and passes the spot with ease.

Obviously, other walkers have used this plant to step on, but how on earth does she know it’s there?

Her nose tells her, of course.

So she walks steadily forward, while I bang my head on the very hard limb of a tree which bows low over the path.

We emerge at the second bridge, she walks up the steep slope as effortlessly as ever, and we turn onto the football/athletics field.

Here, she finds more alluring scents, and even breaks into a brief trot to pursue them.

I have noticed over the last few months that she checks on me more frequently than she used to, sometimes every few footsteps, and becomes anxious if I’m not by her side – unless, of course, she’s on the track of some invisible creature. And even then, instead of coming back, she will stand where she is, looking confused and waiting for me to ‘find’ her.

While away from home, she is definitely less confident, and slower than she used to be; at home, she still tosses her toys around, jumps up and down with delight when I put her collar on each morning, and play fights me vigorously every time I put her harness on, just as she did when she was young.

In fact, it has been necessary to curb her harness time wildness after, a few weeks ago, she sunk a tooth between the joints of my index and middle finger. It hurt, and I responded by removing her harness and throwing it on the floor in front of her.

I can tell when she is about to play rough because her front right paw, which has to be placed into the harness first is rigid, instead of limp. A rigid paw elicits a loud, growly “I-SIS!“, and now this is enough to prompt her to produce a limp, compliant paw. Once the harness is over her head, she is allowed to jump around and bark as she has always done, before we emerge onto the front path.

Despite her disabilities, she is, as I always tell the vet, the healthiest animal I’ve ever had.

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in a joyful dog, a very good dog, a very naughty dog, clever girl, clever Isis, deaf/blind dog, deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, Holders Lane, Holders Lane Woods, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, Kings Heath Park, Nancy, park dogs, poor Isis, teaching my deaf/blind dog, these dogs!, walking with Rufus and Nancy, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

teef

Posted on May 12, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

 

A post should appear every Sunday

 

Sunday May 12th 2024

 

Isis has always had fragrant breath. More accurately, her breath is always completely odourless unless, of course, she has just consumed a sardine.

But lately, there’s an unmistakeable whiff of bad teeth.

The vet confirms that teeth need extracting, and an appointment is arranged for Friday May 3rd.

Oh dear. Today’s THE day.

Poor Isis. With no warning, and no breakfast, she is woken at the ridiculous hour of 7.30. As always, the poor, innocent creature jumps eagerly into the car, which makes Human feel even worse to be delivering her into the jaws (as it were) of dental surgery.

Canine and feline dental patients have to wait to have their surgery until the day’s other surgical procedures have been done, and poor Isis will be sitting in a strange environment, waiting for hours. I ask whether it is possible for me to take her in later than 8.30, but no, rules are rules. I voice my concerns, and they kindly agree to place her in an isolation kennel so that she’ll not be frightened by other dogs.

She stands beside me in the waiting room visibly trembling. Before she is given anaesthetic, she will have blood tests and a heart check to make sure that the risk inherent  in any anaesthetic procedure is reduced as far as possible. They will let me know how she is when she comes out of surgery, and later, when I can take her home.

The vet lets me know that everything has gone well, then a nurse phones earlier than I expect, to suggest that I come and collect Isis as she is very stressed. They want her to eat soft food before discharging her but she refuses to eat.

When she is brought to the door of the waiting room she looks truly pathetic. My heart sinks. She’s bedraggled, miserable and frightened.

I put my hand close to her nose, and she does wag her tail very, very faintly.

I drive her home, and, suageing into good nurse mode, place her gently on the day bed before going off to put some of the vet’s food into her bowl.

But “CLUMPF!” She appears in the kitchen doorway looking hopeful. I give her the special food which she refused to eat at the vet’s a short time before, and she demolishes it immediately.

From then on, she is back to her usual self except that the Metacam is making her sleepy. I read over the post-op. instructions from the vet. I’m warned not to worry about her vomiting as this is quite normal after anaesthetic, and not to be concerned if she doesn’t want to eat on her first day home.

But she doesn’t vomit, and she eats like a horse, clearly believing that having missed a meal yesterday, she should have double helpings today. I have bought her some Caesar tubs of poultry and ‘country vegetables’. Every meal vanishes seconds after it’s served. I begin to alternate the Caesar with her usual kibbles, soaked overnight so that they’re soft.

As requested, we report back to the vet the following Monday. Poor Isis stands in the waiting room trembling like a cornfield in a gale force wind. No amount of stroking makes an iota of difference. She is certain that she is to be abandoned again, taken away, off down the corridor and locked up.

The poor little creature continues to tremble as we walk with the kind and sympathetic nurse into a consulting room, and while the nurse examines her teeth. She is, as usual, very co-operative and doesn’t flinch when her mouth is held open and her teeth checked.

All is well: there is no infection, and only the amount of swelling which is to be expected at this stage. We are asked to return on Monday May 20th (tomorrow) for her final check.

I had asked when Isis could stop taking the Metacam, as I believe that the medication, although very good for controlling pain, can compromise liver function. I was told that it could be stopped when I thought that she was no longer in pain.

She shows no sign of being in pain, so two days ago, on Friday, I discontinue the Metacom. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say, so I also discard the kibble soaking, and give her the kibbles dry. She appears to think before she chews, but only for a couple of seconds, then she crunches her way merrily through her supper.

After this, for the first time since her operation, she repairs to her dog bed and lies there mouthing her cow.

 

 

 

She’s such a stoical little dog.

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

Posted in a terrified dog, a very good dog, a vet visit, deaf/blind dog, dear little Isis, off to the vet, oh dear, poor Isis, sleeping, something's not right, these dogs!, VERY early in the morning., who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

explanations

Posted on May 8, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Wednesday May 8th 2024

 

I am sorry to have abandoned the blog for three weeks without warning. I have been reeling from the unexpected death, three weeks ago, of my much loved brother, and have now succumbed to the mega cold which seems to be patrolling the country.

I hope to  resume the blog next Sunday.

P

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

unharnessed revolt

Posted on April 14, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear every Sunday

 

Sunday April 14th 2024

 

After the harness débâcle, which was obviously very traumatic for poor Isis, I put the new harness away for two weeks. When I get it out again, I expect that she will refuse to let me  put it over her head, but she accepts it quite calmly. This is a very pleasant surprise.

Soon though, never one to allow a human to become complacent, she begins to wreak her revenge: when I attempt to place her left paw into the harness, she resumes her former strategy of diving onto my hands in the hope of gaining an opportunity for a nip. One morning she thrusts a tooth between two knuckles of my left hand, leaving a deep, black bruise.

Although as far as she is concerned, this is all par for the course, it damn well hurts, and I give her a sharp little smack on the rump. She is then angelic, making her little paw limp, and allowing me to pick it up and put it in place, just like a dog who would never even think of playing silly beggars.

Now we compromise. If her paw is rigid, I don’t even attempt to insert it, just drop the harness on the floor in front of her and wait. Then I pick it up and try again. That’s usually enough, and she is compliant.

But she’s always liked to play games at harness time, so once she’s safely fastened in, she’s allowed to bark and leap around until we open the front door.

This suits both of us just fine, and we walk down to the gate in a most dignified fashion, so that no-one would guess the frivolity of the past ten minutes.

The dull, cloudy wet weather has been a boon for Isis, who, as we know, views the meteorological forecast quite differently from humans – and from many dogs, I’m told. When, as happens very frequently over the past few months, the rain pours down indescriminately, I dress Isis in her warm raincoat, and she doesn’t seem to mind at all. This is fortunate, since if she gets soaked, it takes hours to dry her out: sadly, she is not at all grateful when I attempt to waft the hair dryer over her coat.

We’ve had many good walks over the last weeks. Isis isn’t crazy about the wind, but she’s learning to tolerate it.

She used to revel in strong winds at one time, especially when they blew down leaves and fragments of twigs onto her. Now she just looks put out and makes it clear that she would like to go home.

Isis: Huh! How would you like to have your ears blown flat against your head, your whiskers trashed and your tail blown out behind you like a hairy streamer? Bet if it happened to humans, there’d be no-one in the park except in the summer.

 

 

You must be joking.

You’ve got to be joking.

 

 

 

This is a dog who once upon a time, grabs at ferociously thorned brambles, drags them from where they are tightly coiled in the hedges round the park, and stretches them out like elastic bands, as far as they will go, then, after a quick tug, runs to and fro with them in her mouth, but still attached to their roots.

This is the dog who once, long ago, discovers the pile of aluminium panels which I have  failed to build into a shed, grabs them one by one, and shakes them vigorously, circling the garden with them, jerking them up and down so that they tremble and twang, until Human spots her and rushes out to intervene and stack them in a – hopefully – even less accessible corner.

And the dog who, also long ago, attacks the new hosepipe, swings it joyfully across the lawn, and grabs in her sharp little teeth so often that it now resembles one of those home irrigation systems which leak out water at regular intervals and keep all the plants nicely damp.

Don’t be such a wimp, Isis!

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

Posted in a joyful dog, a very good dog, a very naughty dog, deaf/blind dog, deaf/blind dog plays, glorious rain!, Highbury Park, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, Isis knows best, Isis says "No"., oh dear, patience is a virtue., poor Isis, rain, rain and more rain, these dogs!, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

No posts on Sunday March 31st or on Sunday April 7th.

Posted on March 29, 2024 by patinkingsheath

Friday March 29th 2024

Isis and Human are having two Sundays off, so there will be no post on Easter Sunday, or on Sunday  April 7th.

(Sorry Tony, you’ll just have to stay in bed and eat your Easter egg)

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

Posted in a very good dog, clever girl, clever Isis, deaf/blind dog, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, Isis at home, Isis knows best, Isis says "No"., Kings Heath Park, patience is a virtue., scenting, sleeping, these dogs!, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like bright sun, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Posted on March 24, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear every Sunday

 

Sunday March 25th 2024

 

We didn’t have to go to the vet. By Monday, Isis seems fine. She doesn’t bark, she gets up with her usual enthusiasm, she doesn’t limp, and is not in pain. She’ll not allow me to examine her paw, but later on, while she’s asleep, I can see that her dew claw is missing, but the nail bed is clean and not bleeding any longer.

All seems well.

I am not surprised, after last week’s incident with her new harness, that she will now have nothing to do with it, and promptly trots off when I take it from her drawer in the hall. Fair enough, I’ll use a soft harness for a couple of weeks, hope the trauma will fade and then try the new one again.

Isis is an absolute pain, refusing to walk in Highbury, so I decide we’ll walk in Kings Heath Park for the rest of the week. This works well, although she isn’t so happy today, I think because it’s very bright and sunny, and probably very alarming, since we’ve not had a rainless day since I can remember.

On Thursday, after her walk, I park in Silver Street to nip into Lidl’s for a few items. When I return to the car, I wonder whether the reluctant walker will come with me across the car park to the back entrance of the pet shop. (She likes the pet shop.) We amble across, walk through the shop, and emerge in York Road as I need to buy a tin of shoe polish from the key cutting and shoe repair man.

Unfortunately, we miss him by a whisker, as, apparently, he shuts up shop at 3.30.

Sigh.

To get to Clark’s shoe shop, where I know they’ll have polish, we’ll need to go over the zebra crossing, and walk further along the High Street. I can’t imagine that Isis will be happy with this; I expect that we’ll have to go back to the car, so we turn right towards Silver Street.

But I’m wrong.

Isis appears to be perfectly happy walking along the High Street. She crosses over on the zebra crossing without a pause, whereas usually she prefers to stop in the middle of roads and refuse to move – perhaps she feels safer on a crossing! Actually, it’s just struck me that  this isn’t such a silly comment as it seems: she likes following paths, and she’ll be able to smell the hundreds of feet which have been on the crossing today.

We turn right and walk down a long stretch of pavement to Clark’s. She accompanies me through the door, and takes in the leathery smells of new shoes and boots as she waits patiently while I buy my polish.

We recross the road, and begin to walk back down Silver Street to the car. It’s not a very interesting street, and I’m still waiting for her to balk and refuse to move. It’s a long way to hustle her back to the car.

But I’m overlooking the fact that I am not a dog, and that what looks boring to me is quite different from what smells interesting to her. She’s not walked this way before, and her nose whiffles along the verges and the edges of buildings almost as enthusiastically as it does when we walk past the entrance to the Wildlife Centre in Cannon Hill Park.

 

 

 

Once home, and replete with her supper, she sleeps contentedly until dog’s bedtime.

How I underestimate my Isis.

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

Posted in a very good dog, clever girl, clever Isis, deaf/blind dog, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, Isis at home, Isis knows best, Isis says "No"., Kings Heath Park, patience is a virtue., scenting, sleeping, these dogs!, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like bright sun, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

breakfast in bed for Isis

Posted on March 17, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear every Sunday

 

Sunday March 17th 2024

 

Isis, who, on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday is a pain in the backside on her walks, stopping, refusing to move, turning back, and all of her other unendearing little teases,  transforms herself into a fluffy little spotty-nosed paragon of a dog on Thursday. True, she faffs about for the first ten minutes, but then she trots along happily, appreciating all the scents she comes across, the very essence of contented dogdom.

What’s the secret?

She’s walking with Nancy

(Nancy later tells Bev she believes Isis thinks she can wind Human round her smallest toe).

Hmmmm.

Anyway, all my thoughts of being much more aware of Hairy One’s limitations, and only taking her for very short walks now that she is  approaching eleven (at least) sail out of the window. As Bev says, Isis is happy when she is where she wants to be, and doing what she wants to do.

Isis proves the point the very next day, when, yet again, she moves round Highbury at the pace of a disconbobulated snail.

Yes, I know very well where Isis would love to be – walking along the narrow ribbon of mud by the side of the now swollen and fast running river Rea – but I am not about to expose her to that danger; nor do I really fancy careening up and down the mud slopes myself, before taking a dip in the river to rescue Isis.

What a spoilsport.

She might like a trip to Earlham Lakes, or even the Licky Hills, but I question the feasibility of driving further than the very local parks with only one correctly functioning eye.

We’ve not been to Kings Heath Park for a couple of weeks, so I take her there on Saturday. She loves this park, but becomes bored if we go too often, and tries to sneak across the field to take a short cut back to the car park.

But today she makes her way round the park, sniffing along the much marked walls which contain the shrubberies, moves onto the green stretch parallel to Vicarage Road, then follows her nose along the grass abutting Avenue Road, past the gates, and up onto the wide bank, rich with scents, which spreads itself between the fence and the children’s playground. From here, she makes her way to the wood, and weaves her way through it, still snuffling and snorting at all the little mammal traces.

From here, we slurp through the soggy grass, and follow the path down to the lovely corkscrew hazel, where I pause to gather fallen twigs.

It’s a great walk.

I love football because everyone else seems to spend Saturday afternoon watching it, so the roads and shops are virtually empty.

On the way back, I leave Isis to rest in the car, and spend about thirty minutes gathering supplies in Lidl’s.

Isis is rewarded with a twist of Rodeo which she finds very tasty.

We next stop briefly at the Co-op on Vicarage Road, before making our way home.

When we reach home, she walks up the path with a very weird gait. Oh dear, her harness is twisted tightly round her body, and appears to be inside out. How the heck did that come about? We struggle for half an hour, but there is no way I can squeeze out her head or a leg, and the clips which allow for shortening or lengthening the harness straps are inaccessible, being buried deep in her hair.

She is obviously in great discomfort, as I twist and turn the harness, trying to extricate her. Then, just as I am thinking that I’ll have to fetch scissors and cut her out, I manage to access what feels like one of the clips which allow the strap to be altered. Then I feel another one. It’s very difficult to lengthen the straps as there’s no space at all between the harness and her skin, and all my tugging must be painful for her.

But amazingly, she knows that I am trying to help her, and she doesn’t even growl at me. At last, I am able to lengthen the straps enough to slide the harness – still grotesquely twisted – over her leg, then over her head. We are both very relieved, and she even leans into me when I pull her towards me to give her a big hug.

Her weekend troubles are not over yet though, and today something much worse happens.

I let her out into the garden. She doesn’t make a sound, but when she returns I notice that the portable step has small pools of blood on it, and as she walks into the kitchen, I can see that her left forepaw is bleeding profusely.

What on earth has happened? She’s been out for less than five minutes, has only moved a few feet from the house, and I know that there’s nothing sharp on the ground. There are brambles, but she circumvents them, and anyway, a thorn wouldn’t produce this much blood.

I put wetted cotton wool beneath her pads, until the blood has stopped dripping, then smear Sudocreme on more cotton wool, and place her foot on it. She growls, but doesn’t bite me.

It’s clear that she is in a great deal of pain. Although her breakfast is down for her, she doesn’t want it, and escapes onto the daybed.

Isis never whines or whimpers when she’s in pain: she just barks continuously. I try to interest her in her breakfast, but she doesn’t want it. She just lies there barking. I can’t see what’s going on with the foot, and she’ll not let me examine it.

After a while, stroking her head, I hold her dish under her chin, and she eats her breakfast in bed.

Then she licks her foot and barks, barks and licks her foot.

She wants to come with me to visit Jim, is keen to play her hunt-the-treats game, but then continues to lick and bark until, exhausted, she falls asleep.

When she gets up, she’s limping.

She is a very stoical little dog, and doesn’t react to bumps or scratches. I suspect that she caught her nail in something, and fractured the nail bed. She did this some years ago, and barked for hours through the night. The next day, the vet discovered the fractured nail bed, which, he said would be extremely painful.

She’s sleeping now, and when I join her on the daybed with my Kindle, I’ll see if I can spot exactly where her injury is.

But I fear it’ll be a visit to the vet tomorrow.

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

 

 

 

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I growls – so what?

Posted on March 11, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear every Sunday

 

Sunday March 10th 2024

 

As I think I have mentioned before, the older she gets, the more vociferous Isis becomes. Her comments are restricted to the house, except for two moderately loud woofs when she perceives that someone has just walked on her run of pavement. Once she’s left what she perceives to be her territory, it is very rare indeed to hear a sound from her.

On the odd occasion, when she suspects someone is up to no good, for example if a person  is lurking behind a tree, she’ll give a couple of warning barks. But that’s it.

Indoors it’s a different matter. Her repertoire is huge.

There’s the low growl she uses to let me know I’m encroaching on her personal space while we’re resting on the daybed. As long as I immediately move whichever part of me is touching her, she leaves it at that. If I don’t take the hint, the growl volume is turned up, and usually accompanied by an irritable yip.

This, of course, is always a one way thing. She feels at liberty to plonk her bottom next to my head; to use my thighs as an anchor point  for her feet when she wants to propel herself towards the back of the bed; to dance up and down on my outstretched shins when she is excited, and to drop her head like a hairy brick, on my stomach if she feels a sudden surge of affection.

She growls in discomfort if the light’s on when she is trying to snooze. When we visit Jim today, he leaves his main light off in deference to her light challenges, but he leaves his table lamp on, so the ungrateful animal growls to herself until she falls asleep.

She growls and yips if I walk past her when she’s eating from the bowl in her stand, yet she allows me to place a bowl of fresh water in the stand, without a pause in her munching.

Last week I am grooming her, when she sets up a continual, low growl. Several times I pause to tell her that we don’t growl at Human when she’s brushing or combing us. Isis continues with her complaint, and after about ten minutes, I realise that I am sitting on her tail! (I apologise, of course.)

Perhaps she realises that I’m not doing it on purpose – but how could she know that? Perhaps she’s just being nice to me.

She is an exceptionally patient dog. Even if I’m late getting up in the morning, she waits quietly on the daybed until I come down and greet her. When I attempt to clip on her collar, she shows her excitement, shaking her head vigorously and bouncing up and down. When she does her morning stretch, her yawn often seagues into a truncated podengo howl: wawo00!

I’ve been giving her the green feeding maze several times a week.

 

 

 

 

For several years it had been buried under a large heap of miscellaneous objects, and I’d forgotten about it; nevertheless, she remembers something very important to a dog – if she becomes irritated with difficult to reach little treats, she must not growl or bark. If she does, Human will remove it.

She pokes her spotty nose between the plastic obstacles, patiently licking the treats out with her stretched out pink tongue, she pushes out the ones on the periphery of the maze with her nose, and the very hard to reach ones require digging out with a paw. Some of them are quite challenging, yet she persists until she’s claimed every one. And throughout all this activity, she utters not a single growl.

I’m amazed, and very impressed: after all that time, she remembers not to growl.

In the early days, she growled as soon as she began the challenge, and became more and more angry, working herself up into a rage, growling, snapping and barking, until I donned my leather anti-bite gauntlet, and removed the maze.

This happened every time I gave her the maze, until, eventually, I must have given up and abandoned it.

It was only a few weeks ago that I boasted about Isis’s speedy response to having her new harness put on, how quickly she responded to Human’s excellent training. I ought to know better by now. Anything imposed on Hairy One, whether it’s the path we take in the park, the quiet mealtimes, or brushing beneath her chin, is likely to be strongly resisted.

After a short period of angelically accepting the left foot through the loop routine, she decides that this is an ideal opportunity for stiffening her leg and diving to play bite my hand. Now, to be fair, she’s not drawn blood. She has left a dent or two though, and I know from experience that her playful excitement, if not confronted, will become more and more wild, until she will nip my hand.

I know, that on one or two occasions, I’ve taken my eye off the ball, and allowed a growl to pass unchecked. Now, after her harness has been popped over her hairy head – she doesn’t mind this at all – she growls fiercely as soon as I try to lift her foot to place it in the loop. She’s wagging her tail happily as she growls, even when the growl becomes a play snap. Before a play snap becomes a play nip, the growl has to be eliminated.

As soon as I touch her foot, I know what her reaction will be: if her foot is stiff, there’ll be growling. If it’s limp, we’ll be fine.

Today we have the most persistent resistance so far. Seven times I put her harness over her head, then reach for her foot. Seven times she resists, stiffening her foot, and growling fiercely. Seven times I remove her harness and drop it on the floor in front of her. I count ten and go through the process again. On the eighth attempt, her little foot is limp and relaxed, I pop it through the loop, and then she’s allowed to leap around and growl and yap while I fasten the clip.

She is unique among the dogs I’ve shared my life with.

That’s one way of putting it, anyway.

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

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fumin’ Humin’

Posted on March 4, 2024 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear every Sunday

 

Monday March 4th 2024

 

So what went wrong?

The day begins well. Lazy Human hasn’t groomed Isis for two days. She needs to be groomed every day – yes you do, Isis – so after a late breakfast, I begin. There is dried mud in the hairs of her bottom jaw, and two tangles on her chest. These I snip off.

For some reason, she always insists on moving her head from side to side when I try to brush her chest. Ideally, I need to dig a little inspection pit into the rug , and slide under her on a car mechanic’s  flat bed trolley.

We manage, however. She is very good. Even when I discover urine stains around her private parts, and have to do some intricate scissor work, the poor little dog trembles, but doesn’t growl.

When we leave for her walk, she looks even more beautiful than usual.

Lovely. Tum-dee-tum, tra-la-la.

On the way, I call at the pharmacist’s to ask them to recycle a collection of blister packs. I am told that no, they don’t do that. Since they’ve always taken them previously, I am somewhat taken aback. I explain this but they’re adamant.

Annoying, but ‘it is what it is’, as my friend Chris would say; however, my forbearance is tested to its limits when a young assistant helpfully informs me, “You can throw them in your bin, you know.”

Really, who would ever have guessed it. It had never occurred to me that I could throw rubbish into my own bin. How enlightening.

I refrain from saying this, just repeat through gritted teeth that I do not wish to pollute the environment, I want to recycle them.

The pharmacist tells her quietly that they can be recycled at Boots. She relays this information to me, and I leave.

For some reason, I’m really peed off, and instead of dismissing the matter, become more and more incensed.

Foolishly, I decide we’ll go to Holder’s Lane for a change. Isis hasn’t been there for a while, and will enjoy the new scents. And it’s not rained for two days, so surely it won’t be that muddy.

No, but it’s rained for two nights.

Soon after stopping to pick up after Isis, I realise that one of my gloves is missing. This is not a rare phenomenon, but irritating, nevertheless. I drop Hairy’s lead over her back and  retrace my footsteps, scanning the path. We’ve only walked a little way, so it should be easy to find.

It isn’t.

I traipse up and down, peering into the undergrowth and among the dead leaves.

It’s nowhere to be found. Dear little Isis, as always, stands exactly where I left her. I proceed, even more irritated, with one cold hand stuffed into a pocket.

Then I make another stupid decision, and set off down the indesribably muddy track which runs alongside the allotments. We slither and slide our way forward. Isis isn’t sniffing as much as usual. She doesn’t appear to be enjoying it any more than I am. As soon as we can, we cut across the wood. Even here it is squelchilly foul underfoot.

We exit the woods by the willow tunnel, and Isis makes it clear that she intends to return to the car. I block her off and we continue along the path towards the bridge. I am fed up with Isis and Isis is fed up with me.

She would transfmogrify into a very happy dog if I would allow her to walk along the slippery ribbon of track alongside the river Rea, but I explain that it’s not safe to go that way today. She’s not in the least mollified by my explanation, and has to be persuaded every inch of the way to walk over the bridge.

Once over, she perks up. I release her from her lead, and her tail lifts. She likes this path; unfortunately though, the waterways people are creating a flood plain on part of the big field she likes to run on. She is convinced that I could open the gate and let her through if I weren’t such a miserable git.

Once we’ve passed the fence, I encourage her onto the field. Now, of course, she’s changed her mind. She’d prefer to stay on the path. I give her a shove, and she trots happily onto the grass and begins to follow interesting trails.

Thank Dog for that. When she’s finished all her scenting, we walk over the last bridge and onto the field. It must be drier here than it was last week.

No, of course it isn’t. There’s a quagmire to the left of us, and a quagmire to the right. We stumble and splodge along the field’s edge. But everyone else has done the same thing, and the sticky mess is now up to our ankles. The track which we would usually take at the bottom end of the field is now a miniature pond, so we scrabble up a steep track and into Holder’s woods.

Here, the nightmare continues: every track is submerged in murkey, fetid rainwater. In order to circumnavigate these new born ditches, I have to walk through patches of bramble, which I have to flatten for Isis to walk over. I wobble precariously, but fortunately manage to stay upright.

Eventually, we reach one of the main tracks. Here, it’s less filthy underfoot, but the track we usually take down to the beginning of the car park, looks as though herds of cattle have been driven through it, so we walk on until we are level with the car.

By the car is my ‘lost’ glove, obviously dropped when I closed the boot.

Hairy One’s little feet are so clogged with mud that there’s only enough water to wash three of them, and the fourth has to be washed in her jug when we arrive home.

Well, at least recording this tale of woe has finally dispelled Human’s irritation.

Poor Isis is exhausted and sleeps on the daybed like a hairy log.

I think we’ll steer clear of Hoders Lane until August.

 

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.

 

Posted in a very good dog, deaf/blind dog, dear little Isis, Holders Lane, Holders Lane Woods, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, Isis knows best, Isis says "No"., learning to trust, oh dear, patience is a virtue., poor Isis, rain and more rain, relationship building, scenting, these dogs!, walking my deaf/blind dog, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment