more visits to Highbury

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Sunday December 9th 2018

 

Very disappointing. Just uploaded a video of Isis in Highbury park. Played back on the phone, the quality is as good as it used to be, but when transferred to the blog, it’s horribly degraded (like the last one I published).

I’ll have to take the camera next time.

We’re in Highbury on Saturday and today. And is Isis too nervous to leave the car after her fall last week?

Not at all, though when I give her free reign to decide where she wants to go, she shuns the woodland walks and stays in the lower areas.

She elects to spend most of her time cavorting around her favourite rosebay willow herb patch, before exploring the alternative routes which run roughly parallel to the main path.

These areas are much more enticing than the tarmacked paths. Not only do they smell much more interesting from a canine point of view, they also require a dog to clambour over tree trunks, slide about on rows of slippery logs pushed together to form little bridges, barge her way through mini plantations of straggly saplings, and detach herself from trip-upping creepers. Best of all, they also require a human to follow her in case she gets lost. I imagine doggy sniggers.

Isis tells me that her decision is nothing at all to do with being frightened of falling off a wall. That wasn’t a mistake: she meant to do it.

Dogs are very courageous. They’re not afraid of anything – well, only stripy sun- and-shade weather. They just choose sometimes to stay on terra firma.

Now and then though, she explains, they land up somewhere they’ve not been before and have to stop to think. That’s what this dog is doing.

 

 

 

 

 

Her tail isn’t down because she’s nervous. Absolutely not. It’s down because she’s thinking.

She’s not at all nervous. No way. She’s pondering the advantages of high up and low down.

In her opinion, apparently, standing on these bark chippings

 

 

 

 

 

is quite high up enough for any dog.

 

 

 

See. Here she is, below, tail up and ready to begin the obstacle course.

 

 

 

 

 

“Ready Human?”

Sigh.

 

 

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 Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like bright sun | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

is Isis recovering?

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Wednesday December 6th 2018

 

Your sympathetic comments about poor Hairy One’s accident are much appreciated. Thank you all.

But is I. S. right when he observes

‘ … poor dog, but they tend to recover quite quickly from these incidents.’ ?

Twice I examine Isis meticulously. She’s surprisingly tolerant, though she draws the line at my manipulating her tail between finger and thumb.

Fair enough.

I still worry that I might have missed an injury, that she’s in pain, just not showing it.

Next day I tell Gr. of my concerns as we stand in the rain on the grass above the old bowling green. I’m know I’m looking worried as we both instinctively glance at the patient.

“Yes, very worrying,” we agree as we watch her looping and galumphing over the grass, leaping up to catch the raindrops. “But she doesn’t seem in too much pain!”

 

 

 

 

 

Half an hour later, she appears to be bearing up reasonably well in the Colour Garden too!

She is, indeed, a resilient dog.

 

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, running running | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Isis has a shock

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Sunday December 2nd 2018

 

 

Poor Isis. On Saturday a puppy follows her, jumping up on her all the way from the field above the old bowling green to Hairy One’s dancing mound and into the Colour Garden. The little pest doesn’t return to her (obviously untrained) owner until Isis retreats into her favourite flower bed and leans into a shrub.

She recovers quickly, though, much more quickly than she would have done even a few months ago. After two under-the-chin taps she comes out of the bed and carries on playing as if nothing has happened.

Unfortunately, today, too, is not without trauma.

We are in Highbury by 11.00 a.m. so that Isis can have a good, long walk. Over the last few weeks, her interest in her much loved pine avenue appears to have waned.

On two occasions, she disappears rapidly from the avenue and in the blink of an eye appears at the edge of the beech wood. Today, she’s not even interested enough to approach the pines, but makes straight for the wood.

Much to her annoyance, I refuse to allow her to wade through the thick mud of the path we usually take, and insist instead that we walk along a different route.

After a short temper tantrum, she acquiesces and we make our way uphill towards the back of Highbury Hall (where Neville Chamberlain used to live). Generally, Isis quickens her pace at this point and trots towards the garden at the back so that I have to pelt after her to turn her round before she trespasses on the elegant lawn.

She must have become bored with being diverted, for today she turns off right and makes her way towards a large grassy mound on which she used to love to dance. And dance. And dance.

I’m hoping that she’ll carry on up over the mound to the track which will take us through the top woodland walk and down into the Community Orchard.

She doesn’t. She loves to explore the slopes below the mound, and down she goes, sniffing her way along little dead ends, stopping when she’s confronted with impenetrable brambles or stems.

I watch her carefully, ready to dissuade her from disappearing into undergrowth or beneath shrubs from which I will struggle to extricate her.

Suddenly, she is walking towards the side edge of a wall I didn’t know existed.

 

 

 

 

 

By the time I realise this, she has already reached what on the photo above is the far right.

From where I am standing, also far to the right and facing the tree, I can’t see how steep the drop is. I can only see the edge.

I  can do nothing to stop her. As I lurch forward, she walks across the leaf covered grass and disappears over the edge of the highest section.

She doesn’t make a sound, not even a squeak.

 

 

 

 

 

I shoot round the trees just in time to see poor Isis on her side in the leaves a couple of feet from the base of the wall. I see that it’s a four foot drop from the edge. As I watch, she squirms to her feet, shakes herself and slowly moves further down the slope. Thank goodness she fell onto a thick layer of leaves and not onto packed earth or concrete.

Unsurprisingly, she looks dazed.

I scrabble down after her, comfort her, turn her round, guide her back up the slope, over the mound and onto the top track.

Usually, once she’s on this track, she moves forward quite confidently. Today, though, she doesn’t walk in front of me, stopping every now and then for me to catch up so that she can check on me. She stays by my side and needs much encouragement to continue.

She loves Highbury and never wants to leave. But today, once we’ve made our way down from the orchard, Isis still off lead, she walks back and forth, back and forth for at least five minutes. I can’t imagine what she’s doing, but now realise that she must have been working out which direction she needed to take. Incredibly, she doesn’t stop to play in the rose bay willow herb patch, but sniffs her way slowly, carefully, looping across the field, onto the main path and towards the car park. It’s quite a stretch and takes her about ten minutes.

She’s never done this before. She’s never walked to the car park off lead. She’s never willingly even approached the car park.

Today I’ve parked in a place I’ve not parked before, on the far side, the side closest to the exit. To my astonishment, she walks straight to the car and waits by the door to be let in.

When we get home, she’ll not get out of the car. She’s obviously afraid and doesn’t trust that the pavement will be where it should be.

I have to pull her out on her blanket.

Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to be hurt. I feel all over her body. I can’t detect any lumps or grazes and she doesn’t flinch. I hate to think about the injuries she could have sustained.

Poor Isis.

So sorry little dog.

 

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 dear little Isis, Highbury Park, Isis in danger, park dogs, poor Isis, scenting, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

it’s all your fault, Isis

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Wednesday November 29th 2018

 

It’s all your fault, Isis.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Human has to set her alarm for 6.30 a.m. on Wednesdays so that she can take you to the park before she sets off for her art group.

Inevitably, of course, she then stays awake most of the night telling herself she must go to sleep soon because she has to rise obscenely early next morning.

When the alarm goes off, she puts one foot out of the bed to fool herself that she really is about to get up. Before she knows it, she’s lurching towards the clock trying to convince herself that it isn’t 7.00 a.m. yet.

It is.

Oh my dog! ****, **** and even more ****.

After the briefest of ablutions, she staggers downstairs, grabs your collar from the cupboard doorknob and staggers into the back room where you are deeply asleep.

A hand placed for a few seconds under your nose is all it takes for you to awake in a warm fluffiness of delight.

Unlike Human, you’re thrilled to be woken up so early.

A walk! Oh joy!

Ecstatic, you prance to the front door. Somnambulant, Human stumbles behind you.

In the porch you buck and twirl as she struggles to wrap your harness around your silky, slippery neck.

“Please don’t bark in my ear. Not this morning. It’s all too much for me.”

“BWOWWOWWOWWOWWOW .. YERRRRAPPP .. WOO HOO HOO HOO WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Thanks a million Isis.

 

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, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, Kings Heath Park, sleeping, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

chilly chihuahuas

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Sunday November 25th 2018

 

Now it’s shivery November and most of the small dogs are wearing their winter coats: two chihuahuas whom I know well have very Christmassy jackets.

Not only miniature breeds, greyhounds and whippets, for whom coats are a must, are dressed in their winter attire but some large, shaggy dogs too. (I always fantasise that the latter are feeling rather self conscious in their coats.)

Isis, of course, has no truck with off the peg clothing. She is growing her own. She looks fatter and fluffier by the day. It’s great in the house when she’s growing her winter coat as I can abandon the mohair look and rejoice in the knowledge that there is scarcely a hair waiting to float up my nose or into my coffee. There are only the occasional, small tufts which she barbers off when very annoyed, usually by lights and shadows or the temporary removal of her breakfast when she forgets how to behave at the table.

She is very last month fashionwise though. I am told that yellow ochre is decidedly à la mode at present but this winter Isis has chosen brilliant white and Payne’s grey.

“Again?”, I remonstrate. But to no avail.

I have to admit, though, she does look beautiful

 

 

 

 

 

even with grass and leaves decorating her beard.

 

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 dear little Isis, Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, park dogs, the dogs of King's Heath Park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

happy endings

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Wednesday November 21st 2018

 

Tuesday is supposed to be wet, windy and cold. A typical November day.

Despite this, when I look through the window from the warm vantage point of my bed, the sky is blue and full of sun.

Oh.

Perhaps if I stay in bed a little longer, just a little, the promised weather will come and Isis can go for a walk in the rain this afternoon.

Excellent idea. By the time we emerge for our walk, it’s dull, grey and raining steadily.

Isis, of course, is delighted.

Unsurprisingly, we have the park virtually to ourselves. Isis likes having the park to herself, and, because it is raining, she is perfectly happy to run and leap all over the expanse of grass above the old bowling green.

 

 

 

 

 

Not a soul in sight, I’m thinking to myself, when, as if she’s dropped from the sky, a very small hairy presence lands at my feet, wriggling excitedly. It’s little Lori. And it’s definitely not meeting me which she finds so exciting. It’s the thought of a biscuit.

Close behind her, also hopeful but much less confident, is little Manny.

Early in the year, sadly, the family’s elderly schnauzer, Ziggy died. Poor Lori, who had joined the family when she was just a pup, had spent most of her eight years with Ziggy and was inconsolable. She kept searching for him and became quite unhinged.

Her humans didn’t want to take on another  puppy. They spoke to Ziggy and Lori’s breeder and heard about Manny. He was selected to be a show dog, and had been shown on several occasions, but was too timid for the rôle.

A lovely looking dog, he was then employed as a breed dog. But he really didn’t take to the idea at all. The bitches just didn’t turn him on. Thanks, but no thanks was his response.

He’s a very nervous little dog. The first time I saw him he stayed well away, hiding behind his human.

Today, although he is still very cautious, he takes treats from me and briefly sniffs my hand.

True, his human is close by to reassure him, but he’s a different dog, perky and full of life, even dashing off to chase squirrels.

 

 

 

Manny (left) and Lori

 

 

Lori has bonded well with him and is a much happier little dog: even the cat is quite fond of him, apparently.

Well, Manny, putting your paw down earned you a much better life, in my opinion.

 

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, walking in the park, we don't like bright sun | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

the invalids

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Sunday November 18th 2018

 

 

 

Nancy, Scamp, Rufus, Shaggy and Bertie

 

 

Rufus knows that L. has dried sardines in her pocket and is hoping to be the first served. Any minute now, the others will catch on. Not Isis, though. She’s afraid, yes, honestly, afraid of L.’s dried sardines. When offered one, she not only turns her head away, she jumps back in horror, her tail between her legs.

Strange, because she loves a sardine for tea with her dried food. She loves any fish she’s offered other than those dried sardines. I wonder whether, when she was on the loose in Portugal, she came across a dried out fish on a beach, ate it and made herself ill.

It’s been lovely to have Nancy back in the park after her cruciate ligament operation and ensuing complications. No sooner was she beginning to recover than she succumbed to a cycle of recurrent and severe diarrhoea.

Her humans realised that the problem seemed to occur  a few days after each of her many courses of antibiotics. Tests revealed that the antibiotics were killing off her stomach bacteria, except for toxic strains of  E.coli, which, subsequently, was taking over.

She is now receiving doses of good bacteria, and improving.

In the summer, while still affected, she slept downstairs with R. and T., in a room with the french widow open so that she had access to the garden.

Very late one night/early morning, she tore into the garden growling and barking ferociously, and waking up R. and T. T. rushed to the door just in time to see a would be burglar scrabbling over the garden wall.

So welcome back, our park heroine. Hopefully, your physiotherapy and therapeutic swimming will soon return you to your former boisterous self.

Meanwhile, poor Albert, ‘Bertie’ to his friends, has been having his own doggie dramas.

Just before I returned to driving, poor Bertie tore a tendon in his left front leg so badly that it became completely detached from the bone.

After an operation to re-attach the muscle, his leg had to be kept straight in order to give the re-attachment a chance to work. His humans were told that the operation might not be successful, in which case amputation would be the only option.

Poor Bertie, who has exceptionally long legs, had to have a metal fixator pinned to the affected limb, from shoulder to ankle, for six weeks.

A couple of Thursdays ago it was Bertie’s big day: the fixator was to be removed. The following day we were all delighted to see him in the park for a very short walk.

He looked rather sorry for himself, and was so tired after his heroic experience that S. had to carry him back to the car.

But the operation appears to have worked!

Here’s Shaggy giving him a sympathetic nuzzle.

 

 

 

Rufus, Nancy, Bertie, Scamp and Shaggy

 

 

 

He looks much happier this week and is able to execute his signature on-the-spot dance again.

Apparently though, he almost sabotaged the whole operation the night before by falling downstairs from top to bottom and crashing into a row of aluminium frames.

We were told that S. let out a squeal of horror and rushed to the bottom of the stairs towards the canine heap, while R. reciprocated with a terrified scream before hyperventilating in the kitchen.

Bertie, having struggled to to his feet, appeared somewhat nonplussed by all the hugs and kisses bestowed upon him by his hysterical humans.

 

Dogs!

 

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

the prickly season

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Wednesday November 14th 2018

 

The prickly season appears to be lasting a long time this year.

Dried thorny bits appear very early in September. I guess they are prunings. Anyway, Isis manages to pick up one particularly nasty specimen with her tail.

 

 

 

 

How long it has been nestling there, I don’t know, but it must have been for dozens of twirls and tail wags as it is very deeply embedded in her hair.

Isis announces its presence by frustrated growls and angry attacks on her tail. It is a two-handed challenge as many of the hundreds of hairs have to be unwound individually from the twig. Fortunately, we are walking with Gr., Bev and her dogs, and Bev. holds Hairy One’s collar while I tackle the twig.

Ouch! Several thorns pierce my skin so I can vouch that they are particularly vicious. No wonder poor Isis gives  little growls of pain.

The whole procedure takes about ten minutes.

Then the seed heads – those big pointy ones in the flower bed by the hedge –  dry themselves out and leap on her. They like settling in malicious clumps on the insides of her thighs, the long, dangly hairs of her tail, her fluffy ears and her underside. Even her chin and whiskers rarely escape the attack.

 

 

 

 

Several times, when we’re about to set off for home, she sits down firmly and refuses to move. When I examine her I unearth sneaky seed heads decorating various tender bits of her.

One day a few weeks ago, things get really nasty.

Before walking back from the park, I remove any seed heads which seem to be bothering her, leaving the rest until we reach home. After she’s eaten I sit with her on the day bed and begin tackling the rest.

These seeds are particularly difficult to get out. Each one has a hook on the end with a little spur on it. When you try to unwrap her hairs from a whole seed head, unhelpfully, the seed head disintegrates so that you have to pick every seed out individually.

Poor Isis is extremely patient.

After a careful all-over examination, I decided that we’ve finished and begin to brush her. When I tackle the tangled hair under her tail, she gives a piercing shriek and flies at her rear end. She bites her right back leg and, on the way, my right hand.

When we have both calmed down, which takes a while, I very carefully investigate. I gently lift aside the hairs under her tail to discover an intact seed head jammed against her anus.

Poor little dog. Unknowingly, I’d pushed against it with the brush. It must have been extremely painful. To her credit, she stands patiently without even a growl as I remove the offending case of seeds one by one.

Now, thank goodness, these damned seed heads appear to be rotting into the ground, since she hasn’t picked one up for several weeks, nor has she collected any thorny twigs on her way round.

A week ago, though, as she trots through the pines by the old bowling green and onto the grass above, she begins to limp. She doesn’t stop – I assume she’s too keen to get to her dancing mound – instead, she hops along on three legs.

Oh dear! Is it a drawing pin, or, even worse, a shard of glass?

Once on the mound, she comes to me, stands still and allows me to lift that most sacred and untouchable of all of her hairy self: her right back leg.

I lift her paw.

There, embedded firmly among her little pink pads, is a large, spiny beechnut case.

 

 

 

 

 

I have to squeeze my nails under the edges in order to dislodge the case, but Isis

doesn’t even flinch.

It’s a hard life being a dog!

 

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 dear little Isis, poor Isis, relationship building, strange behaviour | Tagged , , , , , , | 5 Comments

my ♥ amazing ♥ Isis

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Sunday November 11th 2018

 

Today I realise that whenever I see, hear or think about Isis, I feel very, very proud of her.

I admire my brave little dog immensely.

When we arrive at Highbury Park, the light conditions are as frightening  for her as they could be. The sun shoots in and out whenever it feels like it, casting large, unstable patterns of shade across the gravelled surface of the car park, the asphalt of the path we need to cross and the grass beyond.

Isis’s ears are drawn back and lie flat on her head, her curled under tail has disappeared from sight, and she crouches down low beside one of the car’s back wheels.

But she doesn’t scrabble for the nearest car door.

Perhaps she is too fear-frozen to move.

This is no time for impatient tugs on her harness or blocking tactics, so it’s very probable that she’ll just remain where she is.

I can only stroke her, try to reassure her. At one time I would have abandoned the walk, picked her up, put her back in the car and taken her home; however, now I know her well enough to realise that she is battling with her fight/flight impulses. She is terrified but she very much wants to walk in the park.

A young lady approaches along the main path.

“Oh dear”, she says, “He or she is terrified. What’s the matter?”

I explain poor Hairy One’s predicament.

“Well,” she says, “I’ll stand back and keep my dog well away from her while she goes across.”

I am a little embarrassed and explain that she might take a very long time to decide to cross, or might not cross at all.

Clearly, the kind young lady has more faith in Isis than I do: she and her well behaved dog stand back.

After a few seconds, still cowering, and very, very carefully, little Isis crosses the path and steps onto the grass.

I try to guide her along our usual walk down over the big meadow towards the  stream, but she steadfastly refuses to be guided and tugs towards the nearby thicket.

I expect that once she reaches the edge of the thicket, she’ll lean into it and refuse to move.

Humans can be so stupid, and also so sure that they are right. It takes minutes before the most sensible option occurs to me: let Isis lead the way. She knows what she wants.

She creeps to the edge of the thicket, leans into it and slowly follows its edge round into the next grassy area.

Sensible dog. O.K., follow her lead.

I free her. Immediately, her tail pops back up. She is cautious but no longer afraid.

I follow her as she sniffs her way through the long undergrowth towards a group of trees and shrubs.

Now she finds her way to the edge of the path and follows it until she arrives opposite to one of the areas where she was first allowed to run free. She crosses the path and makes her way briskly towards the steep bank which leads to the next level. She then strides confidently towards the boggy patch close to the edge of the park.

There are allotments on the other side of a tall, strong fence, while on our side  narrow tracks run virtually all the way from the High Street to the Moor Green Lane entrances.

It is not unusual for Isis to check in with me now and again, but I am surprised by her behaviour today, and very impressed.

She continues to walk in front of me, sniffing her way skillfully along the winding track.

 

 

 

 

 

Each time that she finds herself about three metres ahead, she stops until I catch her up, and lifts her head to sniff my hand before walking on. We walk this way and that along the winding tracks for well over an hour, and all the time she follows the same pattern: forward for three metres, stop, wait, check in with Human and set off again.

I wonder whether her diligence arises from a memory of getting lost last week, but think it’s more likely a result of our growing understanding of and trust in each other.

Today I notice another pattern of behaviour which seems to confirm this. Because she is blind and deaf, touch and smell, obviously, have to be our main means of communication.

Ever since she was first allowed to walk off- lead, I have touched her face or tapped her under her chin to direct her.

But Isis isn’t always keen on touch. In the past touching has often irritated her and caused her to be growl and snap. Obviously, I persist. I have to.

I have to touch-guide her quite often today, but not once does she flinch or  growl, let alone snap.

We have a brilliant walk.

 

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 Isis, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, poor Isis, relationship building, scary shadows, scenting, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like bright sun, we don't like the dark | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

shan’t!

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Wednesday November 7th 2018

 

What a difference a day makes, as they say.

We’ve had days and days of ‘mostly sunny’. Isis hates ‘mostly sunny’. The humans can’t see any sun, but she knows it’s up there behind the clouds.

Bev, Gra., Rufus and Nancy wait with infinite patience just outside the car park exit as I tap, push, and exhort Isis to move.

Centimetre by exasperating centimetre, she creeps along the fence, nose to the ground. Persuading her to walk past the basketball court is not an experience to relish. On the other side of it is her favourite stamping ground. She heaves herself towards the fence as I attempt to keep her on the path.

When we eventually reach the slope down to the old bowling green, she persists in attempting to walk backwards.

She’s not in the slightest bit put out by our struggle. When I set her free she rushes off towards the old tennis courts where she bounces around enthusiastically for the next thirty minutes.

I lean against the fence and watch her. Unlike Isis I’m exhausted.

Today it is pouring. Hairy leaps around the car park grabbing gleefully at the  raindrops. She can’t be bothered to sniff but dances merrily past the basketball court and walks briskly down the slope. This time she is facing forward.

At the bottom I free her from her lead and off she runs to prance on her mound.

After a dash around the Colour Garden, she is happy to join the others for a walk round the park.

Still not recovered from yesterday, I trudge along beside her.

 

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, poor Isis, we don't like bright sun, we don't like the dark | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment