Devon Blue

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Sunday July 15th 2018

 

Just over a week ago, Isis receives a surprise parcel.

A close friend, K., who reads the blog knows how attached Hairy One is to her snakes. K. has been down in Devon for a while and sends her a new snake.

It’s not just any old snake, he explains, but a lesser spotted Devon grass snake, a very handsome and rare fella, found only in this county.

There’s a slight problem though. He’s a not a rubber reptile: he’s a fabric one. Isis has not met one like this before.

I hope for the best and set him down in an elegant but casual pose close to Hairy One’s bed.

Will she know he’s a snake?

Evidently not.

She ignores him.

She’s no easy pushover, as we know.

After three days and nights he’s still there on the rug, so I pop him into her basket while she’s sleeping. Perhaps she’ll come across him in the morning and welcome him to her world.

 

 

On the other hand, Isis being Isis, perhaps she won’t.

Sure enough, next morning I find that she’s ejected him. He’s lying there forlornly, back on the rug.

It’s Saturday evening. Before we go down to the lane, I go to fetch Half-snake for her to play with. (Yes, I’m the one who takes him out. She never does. If I forget she just searches for him in the lane, poking among the grassy clumps and under the brambles looking depressed.)

I wonder whether she’ll play with Devon Blue if I drop him casually in the lane instead of Half-snake.

After letting the impatient little creature out of the garden before she shreds the new gate, I toss Devon Blue a few metres away and take up my usual position on the old, green garden chair.

 

 

Isis doesn’t appear to pick up his scent, but gallops boisterously up and down the lane, emitting blissful little grunts.

 

 

After a while, I take out my phone and begin to read the news.

Next time I look Isis has disappeared from view. So has Devon Blue.

I haven’t even noticed her in the vicinity of the new snake, yet I can hear her bell ringing slowly and rhythmically from beneath the ivy, a sure sign of playful contentment.

When it’s time to fetch her, I walk past the ivy den several times without being able to spot her. In order to locate her, I have to lean down low and part the wall of ivy with both hands. Even then I have to stick my head well in between the dense skeins before I eventually glimpse a small smudge of white feet.

The overhang of foliage is much more extensive than I thought. Isis has made a new den, and there she nestles, as far into the ivy as she can get, next to the fence and a good two yards from the track. She’s lying down with Devon Blue in her mouth and draped across her front legs.

After a good deal of ungainly lurching and stretching, I manage to tap the little creature under her chin and, in her own good time of course, she carries out her prize, threading him carefully through the interwoven stems of ivy and out into the lane.

She walks just in front of me, misses the entrance to our garden,

 

 

is gently persuaded to turn around, finds the gate and slowly weaves her way through the undergrowth,

 

 

through the gap in the wire, around the brambles and spiky teasels

 

 

– which are now encroaching, inch by inch, upon the house – and makes her way to the kitchen door.

 

In she pops.

 

 

Now, she always takes Half-snake, that faithful playmate, into her bed.

Will she confer this very special honour on Devon Blue?

Bingo! She does.

 

 

That worked, then.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in clever girl, deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, Isis and the snake, Isis at home, running running, scenting | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

one diary and a gasket

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Thursday July 12th 2018

 

The week doesn’t begin well. The car has been spluttering and juddering first thing in the morning since a heating pipe was replaced a couple of weeks ago.

I ignore this, as one does, hoping that it’s a speck of dirt which will work its way through the system.

It doesn’t. Inevitably. The coolant warning light comes on and the car stalls half way across busy Vicarage Road. It’s the rush hour, of course. We stutter our way home.

I look up the problem in my handbook to be certain that I refill the correct container.

It’s a while since I opened the bonnet and it takes me at least ten minutes to work out how to do it. Then, frustratingly, I can’t move the cap on the coolant tank.

This is extremely irritating: before the advent of rheumatoid arthritis my hands were unusually strong. I whinge and mutter obscenities. Fortunately,  my head is far enough under the bonnet for no-one to hear.

C., the garage owner asks whether a neighbour could open it for me. No, I explain. They, too, are slowly disintegrating.

Friendly M. comes to collect the car. He, too, has arthritis, he tells me and his fingers take a good bit of flexing before he can use them. “I hope you’re up to the job, M.”, I quip merrily. He assures me that he is. His right hand is the weaker. He can use his left hand.

He refills the tank but in the end we decide it’s best for him to take the car into the garage because of the juddering.

It’s now far too hot to walk Isis to the park, so she’ll have to make do with the lane.

She’s been such a good dog while I’ve been outside talking to M., hasn’t she?

No, she hasn’t, I discover when I open the front room door to let her out.

She has neatly extracted March, April and May from my current diary and left tiny, deep tooth prints on the cover and through the pages of June and July.

It’s my fault, of course. It usually is. I’d left my two diaries side by side on a coffee table.

Isis is not generally a destructive dog. The only time she attacks my stuff is if I shut her in the front room. I’d only expected to give M. the key but then we got into conversation.

I’m undeservedly lucky though. She chose to destroy my current diary 2017 – 18, not the new one 2018-19 which is lying beside it. And, after all, the months she has removed have already passed and it’s not too hard to write around the tooth marks.

 

 

 

 

 

But we only have two challenges. Surely there should be three.

The third doesn’t take long to come.

The gasket on the head of the engine is on its way out. The car could survive for a few weeks doing short local runs. The gasket could, on the other hand, blow at any minute, C. tells me cheerfully. I need to check the coolant level frequently.

At least he’s made sure the cap is loose enough for me to undo.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the

icarage road

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the

Posted in a very naughty dog, Isis at home, Isis is no angel | Tagged , | Leave a comment

cringe, cringe

 

 

Isis: This ‘Wednesday’ post isn’t going to happen until Thursday. I’ve had a very, very, boring afternoon and evening. Human has only just woken up.

 

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nine rescues and a prophecy

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Sunday July 8th 2018

 

Kings Heath Park is proliferating with new arrivals, both puppies and older dogs. Among them, it’s gratifying to see quite a number of  rescues.

One is lovely little Asgar, three and a half months old and very lively.

 

 

 

Her mother, pregnant when she came over from Ireland, delivered her five pups in Birmingham Dogs’ Home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isis, helpfully, is playing happily beneath her fir tree on the bank above the old bowling green so I can concentrate on admiring Asgar.

Her owner tells me that the mother and all of the pups have been re-homed.

Most mornings at least one curious dog approaches Isis as she plays her strange games. Although wary, she’s not terrified. Yes, she moves away, but only a few feet. She doesn’t run, and she returns to her tree and her play as soon as the intruder moves on.

Fortunately, all of the dogs she encounters this week have responsible owners and are well trained so she doesn’t get jumped on by obstreperous pups.

Today I’m particularly impressed with her.

As she twirls around her avenue of pines in Highbury Park, she is approached and sniffed by two large dogs: first a Weimaramer, then a German shepherd.

Not very long go she would have cowered, terrified and desperate to escape, but today she just skips further down the avenue and resumes her idiosyncratic dance.

After the pines, we move on to the woodland walk. Even though it’s almost a year since she was here, she sniffs her way up to her much loved grassy mound and prances on it gleefully.

Soon, Maggie the border collie joins us, and J. follows with little Harry and Spanish rescues Ruby and Sophie.

J. was one of our first park friends to meet Isis nearly four years ago. I told her that Hairy One had come from Portugal through Dogwatch UK and J said that her next dog would be a Dogwatch dog.

She also told me that one day Isis would be able to walk off the lead. I couldn’t believe that, but, of course, she was right.

It is magical to see Ruby, who, not long ago was abjectly afraid of everything, playing robustly with little Sophie.

 

 

 

Ruby is deeply attached to J, but still very nervous of strangers, and, sadly, I was unable to get a close-up image of her; however, I caught the much more confident little Sophie playing with a stone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two sadly neglected and abused little Spanish dogs now have the best home they could wish for.

Sophie rushes up to Isis and warns her off. Isis backs off, but to my delight, she doesn’t scuttle away. Her tail stays aloft and she resumes her slow waltz.

There’s my girl!

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in adopted dogs, deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, dogs adopted via DogwatchUK, Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, Kings Heath Park, park dogs, relationship building, rescue dogs, the dogs of King's Heath Park, walking in the park | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

a nest in the ivy

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Wednesday July 4th 2018

 

Isis and I have worked out a just feasible routine for our summer exercise. ‘Just’ because the feasible routine involves levering myself out of bed by eight a.m. – five past at the latest.

Sigh.

I am downstairs before Isis can pick up my scent. I offer my hand to her spotty nose and up she jumps with joyful wags and stretches. I still relish these greetings which took so long to happen. By the time she first responded to morning strokes, I had long since decided that she would never be trusting enough to accept affection.

Checklist: summer gilet stuffed with dog bags, treats for Rufus, phone, kitchen roll (you never know) and Hairy One’s bottle of water from the fridge because she refuses to drink from the communal dog bowl unless R. persuades her.

Grab driving glasses and keys and we’re off.

Quite often we arrive at the car with the wrong set of keys, the one which lacks a car key. As one can imagine, Isis does not appreciate being frog marched back to the house for the right keys. She’s become a patient dog, though. She’s had no choice.

We set off at a brisk pace. If we leave by eight thirty-five, we miss most of the school traffic and get our favourite shady parking space in the park. This means that when we return Isis can jump straight into the car and have a cool drink.

It also means that she can play in her chosen spot for an hour before Bev, Gr. and Rufus arrive for a walk round the park and the pond. (It’s weeks since poor Nancy was able to join her brother in the park as she is recovering from a difficult cruciate ligament operation.)

In the morning, Isis dashes up and down and leaps around her bank tree. She barely pauses for breath.

Her evening outing is very different.

Around seven we leave the house again. By the back door this time. Isis shoots merrily down to the garden gate while I follow more slowly encumbered with a long lead, Half-a-Snake, cushion, phone and an apple.

Isis has established her own summer pattern. She pops into the lane to check out the scents while I fling Half-a-Snake as far away as I can. After a quick prance or two, she hunts him down, partners him for a dance and then takes him up towards the end of the lane.

 

 

When she first began retreating to her den, I had no idea where she’d gone and thought that she’d escaped from the lane. But no, she appears to have become bored with escaping and no longer bothers to visit all the carefully blocked exits.

She soon disappears.

Her den is well hidden.

Even close up, you’d not know anyone was there.

 

 

 

Often, at going home time, I walk past her and on up the lane until a loud tinkle prompts me to retrace my footsteps.

The den is a few feet back from the track and I have to pull thick strands of ivy aside before I can locate her.

When I do, she is always lying down playing gently with her snake.

Sometimes, when she smells me approaching, she shuffles forward,

 

 

stands up

 

 

and emerges bit

 

 

by bit.

 

 

 

She’ll remain in her den until I go to fetch her, usually after an hour or an hour and a half.

Although I’m sure that she would be content to stay there until dark, she always comes out when I put my hand on her collar.

It’s a while since I’ve needed to use her lead. Nowadays I can just herd her towards the garden gate.

Tonight though, she surprises me. She walks ahead before I can stop her, finds the gateway and takes herself into her garden.

I’m very impressed.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in clever girl, deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, Kings Heath Park, relationship building, scenting, strange behaviour, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

meet Walt and Flo

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Sunday July 1st 2018

 

While I was out of action from August last year until May this year, several new dogs appeared in Kings Heath Park.

May I introduce Walt’s new little sister Florence – Flo for short?

Now, big brother Walt is the perfect gentleman: obedient, loyal, affectionate, sensible and very handsome.

These photographs were taken by their human, Ju.

 

I’d often admired Walt as he accompanied Ju. on their park walks.

Who wouldn’t?

 

 

One imagines he was perfectly contented as the only dog. Life was calm. Life was quiet. He had no heavy responsibilities. He could snooze in peace whenever he wanted to.

But nothing lasts forever, Walt.

 

Something strange has come into my calm, well-ordered life.

It’s very, very small. Oh horror of horrors – it’s not house trained.

What in dog’s name is it?

Hope it’s not visiting for long.

 

 

 

It’s Flo, Walt. And I’m afraid she’s not come to visit. She’s come to stay.

 

 

 

 

When she’s very little, she travels in the basket of Ju.’s scooter. You must admit, Walt, she was a very well-behaved passenger.

Now she’s more grown up she can walk around on her own.

 

 

 

 

She doesn’t stray far from sensible big brother, though.

Come on, you must admit it Walt, you’re really very fond of her. And you know she can always rely on you to protect her.

I know it’s a huge responsibility, but she’s very sweet, isn’t she?

What did you just say Walt?

Oh! O.K. I won’t put that in the blog.

 

 

 

 

This one was taken by me. Sorry Walt, I know I should have Photoshopped out the heavy shadows, but I don’t have Photoshop.

My Isis, of course, ignores both Walt and Flo. She’s not afraid of them, though, as they are both polite dogs and don’t bounce on her or sniff her in intimate zones.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in Kings Heath Park, park dogs, relationship building, the dogs of King's Heath Park, walking in the park | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

which ever way you look at it

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Wednesday June 27th 2018

 

 

Whichever way you look at it ………………………………..

 

 

 

 

what could be better on a hot, sunny day in June than just standing

 

 

 

 

or having a sniff at the air

 

 

 

 

or a sedate walk towards a beckoning scent

 

 

 

 

or a quick jump to the right, just for the hell of it,

 

 

 

 

a bounce or two on the spot to limber up

 

 

 

 

before going nuts with ecstacy

 

 

 

 

under my favourite playing tree in Kings Heath Park?

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, I'm off my lead!, Kings Heath Park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Winnie meets a snake

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Sunday June 24th 2018

 

A mystery. Where on earth is the head half of Hairy One’s snake? I know we had him a week ago. I posted this image.

 

 

 

 

But this week he’s nowhere to be found. I know we’ve not taken him to the lane. Anyway, Isis always carries her snakes back to the house, usually to her bed.

Half-Snake is not in her bed.

Is he anywhere else in the house? I am apt to drop things on the floor all over the place.

It he were in the house, Isis would have picked him up and taken him back to her bed.

I usually leave the toy in the car. I look on the seats. I look under the seats. I look between the seats. I’d never be daft enough to put it in the boot ……….

Would I?

I search the boot.

He’s not in the boot.

Could Isis have dropped Half-Snake in the park? No, if she is playing with him, she doesn’t let go when I harness her: she always carries him to the car. If he’s in the park, the dropper must be me.

Sigh.

 

************

 

During the nine months that I was unable to take Isis to Kings Heath Park, quite a few new dogs appeared. Some weeks ago, I decide to take photos of them and post them on the blog.

The first few times I remember to take my camera to the park, no new dogs appear.

Then, just over a week ago, I meet a beautiful, very shy dog called Parsley. She’s only six months old. She’s a silken windhound. I’ve never heard of the breed before. She’s rather like a smaller, slimmer version of a saluki, but with softer hair. This time I’ve forgotten my camera again.

I’m very annoyed with myself.

On Friday I have my camera with me. As I sit on a bench watching Isis playing on the bank of the old bowling green, a young man comes along with a French bulldog pup called Ernie.

The young man joins me on the bench and we chat about our dogs. Ernie is only five months. He’s delightful, but I’m hoping he’ll not rush up to Isis and jump on her. Not only would that be the end of her game, it would be very difficult to persuade her to go back to the space, one of her favourite playgrounds, on future walks.

Ernie, of course, spots Hairy One and runs towards her. But her owner calls, ‘Ernie! No, Ernie! Ernie – come here!’

And the dear little pup comes back to his owner.

I’m very impressed.

So impressed that I completely forget I have my camera with me until I’ve waved them off.

What a twit.

On Saturday I take my camera again and along comes Winnie, another new- comer. She’s a Yorkie/Jack Russell cross, just twelve months old and very beautiful.

I’ve met her once or twice before. I chat to her people, Mel and Doug, and make a fuss of little Winnie. She gives Isis a few sniffs but doesn’t bother her at all; nevertheless, Isis departs for the Colour Garden. I think she’s very sweet, but I’m told that she ‘has her moments’!

She races around so energetically that I think I’ll never get a good shot of her, but, suddenly, the dear little soul sits down right next to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘She found a snake the other day’, they tell me.

‘A rubber one?’, I ask. ‘Half a snake? The head half?’

‘Yes,’ they tell me, ‘She loved it!’

They tell me that they thought it belonged to Isis as they’d met J, Wilda’s person and she’d recognised Half-Snake.

They explain apologetically that Winnie was so engaged with Half-Snake, she played with him until she’d removed his stuffing and reduced him to an ex-snake.

No problem. Isis has two and a half snakes left.

I think it’s quite funny.

I’ve not told Isis though.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, I'm off my lead!, Kings Heath Park, park dogs, running running, the dogs of King's Heath Park | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

another day in the life of Isis

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Wednesday June 20th 2018

 

You never know what’s going to happen in this house. A dog needs a well-ordered life. We don’t have a well-ordered life here.

Not at all.

Some mornings Human gets up at seven. That’s when she’s taking me to see the vet. I don’t like early starts. They make me nervous.

Sometimes she gets up at ten. That’s fine with me. I like a lie in. And there’s definitely no vet on those mornings.

Today I smell her having a shower at seven. This is very worrying. I tremble. Nothing happens though, so I curl up and go back to sleep.

Daisy tells me later that Human spread towels all over the bed and went back to sleep.

Daisy was very pleased. She climbed onto Human’s chest. Human was all lovely and warm so Daisy purred a lot. She explained that she did that because Human likes it and gets all soppy so she’ll probably have lots more showers and Daisy can help her dry off again.

‘Oh’, I say.

‘You need to be seanickle seenycul sinny kul to get by in life’, she tells me, winking. ‘You’re never sinny kul. You’re only a dog.’

Oh dear. I can’t purr either.

Anyway, after a while that black shiny thing Human looks at and talks to all the time must have called her because she’s got it in her hand when I smell her in the kitchen and go to get my morning hugs and kisses.

She’s usually so slow in the mornings that I wonder if we’ll ever get to the front door.  But this morning my collar’s on, my harness is on and my lead’s on and we’re out the door before I’ve hardly had time to bark. (I like barking in the porch. It comes out very loud. I know because every morning Human jumps and prods me.)

We soon meet my friend R. with Gilbert and George greyhounds and I get two lovely liver treats.

Next Rufus shoves his curly head up my nose and I get gravy bones and a fuss from B. I get to sniff G.’s hand but he doesn’t give me anything so I don’t let him fuss me.

Does that mean I’m getting sinny kul?

I walk very nicely around the park because I remember that I’ll get to go to my favourite place later. I don’t need to lie down and say ‘no way’ or ‘shan’t’.

When I get to my favourite place I don’t want to sit under my big, safe tree because there are no shadows today.

Mostly I race up and down along the edge of the flowers and bushes. But when I feel like it I dash under a thick, scritchy bush and play, just for fun.

One time I do it and a nasty, sticky plant with tiny hard balls on it wraps itself round my face and my chest and my legs and it won’t let go.

I run out from under the bush very quickly and attack the nasty sticky plant. But I can’t get it off. I’m feeling a bit upset so Human comes over to help. I stand very still and she pulls it off.

After we get home I have a little rest then go into the front room to find Human.

I needn’t have bothered. She soon goes and fetches that box and brushes me. Ugh. I only do a very little growl after she’s brushed my face and throat and beard over and over and over again. All right, so there’s wet mud in it. There’s still no need to carry on like that. It pulls.

When I growl she stops. But I don’t get a treat. Because I’ve growled. So I lie very still and let her carry on.

Then she COMBS me and finds four mats behind my right ear. It’s her fault. She should feel behind my ears every day. She untangles two with her fingers and two she cuts off. I don’t like it but she doesn’t hurt me so I don’t say anything.

I do when she combs my rump though. I can’t help it. Not very loud though, or I won’t get a treat.

She’s taking an awful long time. I expect she’s saying stupid things like ‘I can’t believe all this hair is coming out’, and ‘I thought you’d lost all your winter coat’ and ‘Where’s it all come from?’

 

 

How would I know?

I’m off.

 

 

 

Anyway, thank dog, our new doorbell vibrates and L., our next door neighbour comes in for coffee and biscuits. I rush into the back room and sit in my bed waiting for my treat.

 

 

 

 

It’s a nice one.

So it should be. I’ve earned it.

As soon as I’ve eaten it, I jump up onto the day bed and go to sleep.

I’m not going back in the front until I smell her putting the brush and comb box away.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in deaf/blind dog plays, I'm off my lead!, Isis and Daisy, Isis at home, Kings Heath Park, relationship building, running running | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

in and out the Colour Garden

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’

 

Sunday June 17th 2018

 

As we know, Isis loves the Colour Garden in Kings Heath Park. Her favourite bed is the yellow one. She used to run back and forth along one side.

This was very helpful of her as I could lounge on the bench near the bowling green and keep an eye on her.

 

 

But I became more than a little concerned about the increasingly marked track which her little scampering feet were engraving.

I was relieved when she became more adventurous and took to racing all the way round the bed, even though I had to rise from my bench now and then when she lingered on the other side out of view.

When the sun came out and dense shadows appeared, she restricted herself to that side, playing warily and creeping into the edge of the bed for cover among the plants when the light changed.

 

 

 

Sometimes, when particularly spooked, she crept deeper into the bed.

 

 

 

 

That’s how she discovered the tall, broad fir tree. Its foliage is very dense and its branches sweep down almost to the soil: the perfect hiding place for an uneasy dog.

 

 

 

 

She becomes very interested in the purple bed. At first she trots carefully along the back, near the hedge, exploring the layout. Several times she gets caught up in dog snatching plants and I have to wind my way in among the shrubs to release her.

Unfortunately, I see her flatten a clump of flowers and have to curtail her purple bed cavorting.

She responds to this by returning to the yellow bed where she spends most of her time leaping around the tall fir. When she is tired, she scrambles beneath it and stands there panting.

If we take Half-a Snake to the park with us, she carries him into the bed with her, tosses him aside, has a little prance, then picks him up again and takes him under the tree where she mouths him fondly until another prance beckons. This goes on until, eventually, I make my way to the tree and harness the hairy reveller.

From the Colour Garden we set off for the car park, Isis carrying Half-a-Snake carefully back to the car.

Lately, concerned that she’s not getting enough variety in her park visits, I insist that we walk down to the old bowling green when we begin our walk. Isis  obviously wishes that I’d mind my own business and let her go where she wants to go.

Being an officious human, I persist. Now she’s extended her territory, reclaiming the lower bowling green, the little tracks by the railway line, the area above the bowling green and the little wood.

Human: Excellent. This is good for you.

Isis: Huh.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in deaf/blind dog plays, I'm off my lead!, Kings Heath Park, running running, scenting, walking in the park | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments