a very good day

 

 

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

 

Sunday April 22nd 2018

 

Yes, last week we had our traumas, both Human and Hairy, and not just on Wednesday, but we also had good times.

On Friday, Isis has a lovely walk and a long play in the park with the Pet Angels. When she comes home she is blissfully exhausted. After giving her a cursory wipe, I manage to spread a couple of her towels on the day bed before she flakes out.

She is still asleep when I bounce gleefully home after my lunch time visit to the lovely physiotherapist at the Royal Orthopaedic  Hospital.

 

 

 

 

 

He tells me that he is impressed with the movement in my shoulder. I ask him – tentatively because I’m sure that the answer will be ‘no’ –  if there’s any chance I’ll be able to drive before the the operation on the other shoulder is done. “Oh yes,” he replies. He tells me that I’ll be able to drive again as soon as the treated shoulder has regained its full strength. It’s unlikely this will have happened by my next fortnightly visit, but it’ll only be a few weeks longer, he thinks.

I can hardly believe it. It’s more than nine months since I’ve driven. Fantasies of  Kings Heath and Highbury Park assail me: seeing my park mates every morning; watching Isis dancing in her pine avenue; meeting dog walkers and dogs I’ve not seen since the beginning of July.

How wonderful.

 

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

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a sticky situation

 

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

 

Wednesday April 18th 2018

 

A week ago today.

I’m on my way for an appointment at the I.R.F. (Inflammatory Research Facility). Waiting on the platform at Kings Norton, I drink about a third of a Fortisip, screw the lid on tightly and put the container in my pocket. I hop onto the train.

We’ve reached Bournville when  I feel a warm trickle advancing down my left thigh.

Oh no!

But oh yes! The Fortisip has turned on its head in my pocket and the thick, claggy contents are seeping through onto my trousers. A large pool has already formed on the seat.

Eeeeek! The seeping seems to be accelerating, the gloop creeping through my underwear, the pool on the seat spreading. Plunging my hand into a pocketful of Fortisip, I manage to turn the container the right way up.

Also in the pocket is a thick wodge of dog bags. I manage to withdraw the container and insert it into one of the slimy bags. Having my right arm in a sling does not make the operation any easier. Now both hands and my leaking pocket are dripping Fortisip all over the floor. Searching my bum bag for tissues is not a viable option.

I imagine some elegant person sitting in the pool of Fortisip. I stand up, trying to keep calm and think of something sensible to do.

Then a guard gets onto the train. I confess to my vandalising of the seat. He has no suggestions. Thankfully, I find a discarded copy of Metro News and spread it over the pool.

When we reach University station, I lurch from the train, hands and coat still dripping, and make for the exit.

I tread my sticky way towards the Q.E. (Queen Elizabeth) Hospital, then try to look normal as I squelch into the ladies’.

Here I drop the container into a bin, fill the coat pocket with warm water and wipe down the rest of the coat and my trousers. Many rinses, handfuls of toilet paper and lots of puddles on the floor later, I emerge, carrying my sodden coat.

When I reach the I.R.F. the receptionist kindly spreads out my coat to dry.

It’s a long session.  I place a thick wad of paper towels on every chair before I sit down. My left trouser leg is still saturated with Fortisip. I’m tense, uncomfortable and distracted.

Because – unsurprisingly – I’m unable to relax, the blood test goes badly and the needle has to be inserted again.

Shudder.

All in all, I’ve made a complete idiot of myself.

But there’s one positive: Dr. S. is very pleased that virtually all of the rheumatoid symptoms have cleared up, and she reduces the steroids. Even the early morning stiffness in my wrists, hands and fingers has disappeared. From now on, I’ll be able to  groom Isis properly again.

I rush home to tell her the good news. She’ll be delighted ……………………

 

 

……………………………..  won’t she?

 

 

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

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no silver lining

 

 

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

 

Sunday April 11th 2018

 

In addition to her bright light issues, Isis has decided that certain areas and routes are very dangerous. One no-go area, unfortunately, is the stretch from our front gate to the corner. Only a short distance, but long enough for one small dog to create a lot of hassle – and attract a good deal of unwanted attention.

There is a bus stop opposite my gate, and I am often regarded with great suspicion by bored travellers waiting for the bus. I know that they’re thinking how cruel I am, dragging that poor little dog along, forcing her to walk when she clearly doesn’t want to. Recently, an irate man calls across the road, “If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t want to go.” I explain that she just has a thing about this bit of pavement and will be fine once we turn the corner.

And, of course, once she has turned the corner and the man can no longer see her, up flips her tail and off she trots.

Grrrrrrrr. Thanks, Isis.

The following day, the weather is perfect for a walk to the park, and I am delighted when R. texts to say that she and S. will pick up Isis.

It’s a silvery cloud day and Isis dances gleefully while I struggle with her harness. She pops out of the front door with R., argues briefly about which direction they’ll take and off they go.

She’ll have a lovely time and will sleep soundly when she returns. I give Daisy her thyroid tablet and brace myself for another blood test.

But there’s a knock on the door. It’s R. with Isis. The little pest has refused to walk more than a few yards with the Pet Angels and when brought home flings herself pathetically against her gate.

“She’s very pleased to see you,” comments R. as she unwraps Isis from her harness. “Well, I’m not pleased to see her,” I reply, looking crossly at the little spoiler.

Playing in the lane is not an option today. It’ll be a quagmire. But Isis doesn’t complain. She’s not herself.

All day she is troubled by the light. She keeps flinching and ducking her head. She is clearly distressed, and when I return from my appointment, every time I move, she’s right behind me.

In the evening we settle on the day bed and she sleeps soundly. It’s a different matter when, just before one, I go up to bed.

Isis barks on and off for the next two hours: not “There’s a fox in the garden” kind of announcement, but worried, miserable little barks.

It’s about two-thirty and she’s still not settled. I go down and join her on the day bed. For a while she is restless and growly, but then she sleeps soundly, stretched out along my legs.

When I creep back to bed at about three, she is deeply asleep. She doesn’t stir until about nine.

Strange little dog. I wonder what demons lurk in the silver clouds.

 

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

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Isis is very good and human resurfaces

 

*

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

 

Wednesday April 11th 2018

 

Human is back on track. Today Isis and I go on our first road walk for a week.

Hairy One’s harness is attached to a ‘running lead’ around my waist. But we don’t run. Not yet. We walk sedately along nearby roads. The air is damp and the hedges, walls and pavements exude dozens of intriguing smells. Many of the smells are so intriguing that they must peed on, of course, so our progress is very slow.

Isis doesn’t mind slow this evening. She is being a very co-operative, amazingly well behaved dog, as she has been all week.

Because I’ve had one arm out of action for the last few weeks, we haven’t been able to play our silly ‘putting the collar on chase’ in the morning. Instead, the dear little creature stands perfectly still under the door handle on which her collar hangs overnight, and waits until it is clipped on, wagging her tail happily.

Over the past week there have been several days when she hasn’t been for a walk but she’s not tried to escape down the garden when I’ve taken her for a pee. In the house she has played with her snakes and danced on the rug before stretching herself out alongside me on the day bed.

 

 

 

 

I thought I’d have to ask a friend to take her to the kennels for a few days, but she’s been so good that it’s not been necessary.

What a little angel ! I didn’t think she had it in 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

* Human’s shoulder feels as though it’s doing very well. She had to cancel the physio’s appointment last Friday so daren’t remove the sling yet, but has another appointment tomorrow, so fingers crossed.

The sickness bug retreated but the digestive system was badly inflamed owning to the bug on top of foolish human accidentally taking three instead of one of her meds. three weeks ago. Now she’s being extremely careful – which is a strain – quaffing quantities of Peptec and drinking Fortisip while gradually adding ‘normal’ food.

What a twit!

 

Posted in clever girl, deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, Isis at home, relationship building | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

my apologies

Wednesday April 6th 2018

Sorry there’s no post today. Human is ill. And Dog has been left to play on her own.

Isis.

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the white stuff

 

 

 

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

 

Sunday April 1st 2018

 

A lot of good stuff happened while A. was looking after Daisy, Human and me. The very best stuff was SNOW.

 

I can’t stop wagging my tail. There’s something amazing the other side of this gate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hurry up! Hurry up! It might go away.

 

For dog’s sake! I can’t believe I’m still waiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well I don’t care – I’ll play in the garden!

 

 

And I did. For two lovely hours. But then they made me go in.

 

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, running running | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

fun and games

 

 

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

 

Wednesday March 28th 2018

 

My friend A. does an excellent job of minding all three of us. She arrives the evening before I have my shoulder operated on and immediately establishes an atmosphere of calm and order. The next morning while I am flapping around angsting about whether I need to take an extra pair of socks, and a pencil in addition to a pen, she concentrates on removing hundreds of Isis hairs from my newly washed navy cords.

Why don’t I wear something else? If you’re a dog lover you’ll not need to ask. Over the last month or so, Isis has gradually transferred her beautiful, dense, fluffy, winter undercoat to my wardrobe. I’ll not overdo the information, but every item  of clothing I own is coated in dog hair.  Should have adopted a black dog, I muse, or bought white underwear.

I am, of course, accustomed to being sartorially challenged, and am not excessively concerned about looking as though I’ve just rolled in a kennel, but hospitals care about hygiene.

When I return in the late afternoon, all is peaceful. A. has managed to roll up Daisy’s thyroid tablet in just the right amount of cheese to make it stick to one of her Dreamies, and Daisy has eaten it without a problem. Isis has been contented and well behaved.

While I doze, A. takes Isis into the lane to play.

Just as A. was told, Isis trots enthusiastically down to the gate. She picks up her snake and pops into the lane. She plays with her snake, several trailing lengths of ivy and a stick or two. What a good dog. A. is impressed.

Until it is time to come in. ‘Just approach Isis, place your hand firmly on her back, clip  on her lead, and direct her to the gate. Then you can release her and she’ll trot up to the back door.’ A. knows precisely what she has to do, and sets off towards Isis, lead in hand.

Isis, too, knows precisely what she has to do. But she doesn’t do it. Instead, she dodges round A. and shoots off down the other end of the lane, turns the corner, trots right down to the road gate, and dances gaily. When A. follows, Isis dodges past her and returns to the corner. She twirls there until A. approaches and then heads off back down the lane again.

Now there follows a good fifteen minutes of fun and games.

 

 

 

 

 

Isis, who knows A. is kind and gentle, allows her to approach and then skips off. Over and over again. She is enjoying herself immensely.

As time goes on, A., tired, very cold and longing for a hot cup of tea, becomes less and less enchanted by the hairy prankster’s larks. She finds herself speaking more loudly now, and through gritted teeth.

“Isis, it really is time to come in now”, she intones. She is considerably more genteel than Hairy One’s owner would have been, and Hairy One ignores her.

Eventually, the recreant is recaptured.

Wisely, A. does not release her inside the gate but keeps her on the lead, letting go only when yanked this way and that as Isis, who obviously does not wish to trot nicely up to the front door, escapes and runs back down the garden.

As A. remarks, Isis is behaving just like kids with the new baby-sitter.

Shameful animal.

 

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 a very naughty dog, deaf/blind dog plays, Isis is no angel, running running | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

a conversation continued

 

*

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

 

Sunday March 25th 2018

 

Scene: hallway, Friday March 16th

 

“Where’s Human gone?”

I don’t usually speak to Daisy. She smells dangerous and she has spikes on her feet. She spits at you as well and that’s not very nice.

But it’s a emerging a merging an emergent an emergency. Human’s gone.

Daisy’s noticed as well. I’m sure she has.

“So?”, she says, and she yawns a big pink yawn. I notice how long and sharp her teeth are.

She shoots out one of her back legs and begins to wash it.

“But where’s Human gone?”, I ask her again. I don’t mean to, it just slips out.

She closes her eyes and tells me she doesn’t give a spit where Human is because she’s sure another human will come and look after her. They always do. She’s a cat.

I know other humans don’t always come to look after dogs. Where I lived before, I was left alone a lot. I was tied up on a rope and other animals ate all the food and I got very thin and thirsty. But I don’t argue.

Then it happens again. Before I can stop myself, I’m saying, “Yes, well A. came last night and we were all together. It felt safe. I like A. She’s kind and she has magic hands and when she strokes you, you feel all warm and lovely all over. I only let special humans stroke me. But then Human went away. Now A.’s gone as well.”

“Oh my dog”, snaps Daisy, “You’re such a baby. Perhaps Human won’t ever come back. So what?”

I begin to shake like I do when we’re waiting to see the vet.

“Perhaps she’s ill”, the nasty cat says next. “Tell me. Did you notice any symptoms?”

“What’s a simtum?”, I ask.

Daisy sighs. It’s a very, very, long sigh.

“Has she been lying down a lot on the day bed?”

“Yes. She always lies down a lot on the day bed. She always gives me enough room, so ..”

Daisy gets angry then.

“What in dog’s name do you mean ‘she always gives you enough room. I don’t have to be given room, I just take it.”

“What else have you noticed? Has she stopped eating?”

I think hard. Human has been giving me a lot of cheese lately for being a good girl. I explain this to Daisy.

“Does she walk up to the cheese, sniff it and then walk away again?”, she asks.

“Yes, I think so. She often opens her mouth to put in the cheese and then looks at me and gives it to me instead. Because I’m a good girl.”

“Pah-thet-ic!” Daisy growls. “I get cheese every day. I don’t have to be good to get it.” She flicks her ears and begins to wash her face.

After a long time, she stops washing and looks straight at me. Oh dear, is she going to pounce?

But she doesn’t.

“Last question”, she says. “Does she sometimes swallow and look as though she’s going to be sick?”

“Yes, yes, yes,”  I tell her quickly, “She does that a lot when she goes to drink her coffee and it’s gone cold.”

” A-ha”, says Daisy, ” I know what’s wrong with her.”

“What?” What?”

“Ah, yes”, I’m certain of it.”

“What? What?”

“In fact, I’m ab-sol-ute-ly positive. She flicks her tail and walks off down the hall.

I run after her,  “Please tell me Daisy. please tell me.”

She stops half way up the stairs and looks down at me.

“Oh dog, you’re thick she says. Just think about it. She’s been sleeping a lot. She’s sniffing at food then not eating it. She’s making gulping noises and looking like she’s going to be sick…. ”

“Yes, yes.”

“And you’ve still not worked it out? ”

My tail droops. My head drops. What can be wrong with Human?

“Do I have to spell it out”,  asks Daisy.

I wait.

“She’s obviously got a fur ball.”

 

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

*Human apologises for stopping last Wednesday’s post so abruptly. She suddenly felt so ill she had to go to bed. She had been feeling off since Sunday but it was Thursday before she realised why. She’d absent-mindedly swallowed three Alendrolic Acid tablets instead of one.

As A. said, very sensibly, since I’d taken them on Sunday and was still conscious on Thursday, I was probably going to survive.

Spoke to nurse at Q. E., had a blood test and am feeling much better now.

Whoops !

 

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a conversation…

 

 

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

 

Wednesday March 21st 2018

 

Scene: hallway, Friday March 16th

 

“Where’s Human gone?”

I don’t usually speak to Daisy. She smells dangerous and she has spikes on her feet. She spits at you as well and that’s not very nice.

But it’s a emerging a merging an emergent an emergency. Human’s gone.

Daisy’s noticed as well. I’m sure she has.

“So?”, she says, and she yawns a big pink yawn. I notice how long and sharp her teeth are.

She shoots out one of her back legs and begins to wash it.

 

to be continued ………

 

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

*Had operation on right shoulder last Friday. Brilliant hospital, the Royal Orthopaedic. Lovely people. Home same day, feeling quite euphoric. Come down to earth today. Too exhausted to write any more!

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a sight for sore eyes

 

 

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

 

Wednesday March 14th 2018

 

Oh, the weather, the weather. Cold, frosty days are easy. No mud. On damp days, we’ve become accustomed to cleaning hairy heels and feet, accompanied, of course, by low, rumbly growls and a kitchen floorful of murky brown puddles.

But Monday is something else. It’s been raining intermittently for days , and the ground is sodden. And I mean sodden. Because Isis likes to dance on the same stretch on every  visit, the once clean, fresh grass is now scarred and churned. And Isis is raring to go.

Oh dear.

No problem if I could just lift her into the sink to wash her, but I can’t.

Ah, but I could direct her to the other end of the track where it’s still clean and green. Good thinking. A little prod, and off she goes. What an obliging animal. While she gets on with her ecstatic capers, I shield my phone with a waterproof mitten and read the news.

When I next glance up, I behold a craggily black back end, four exceedingly black legs and a black underside.

How the hell has she managed to get so filthy in fifteen minutes? Yes, I know: dogs don’t find that so difficult.

I peer down the lane where she is standing up to her knees in mud waggling a sludge covered snake. Yes, of course, her mouth, whiskers and beard are claggy with mud too.

Silly me. I’d forgotten that neighbour M. had moved heavy machinery on a trailer some weeks ago. Two of the vehicle’s wheels had sunk into the turf and left deep ruts across one of Hairy One’s reserve stamping grounds at that end of the lane.

Oh well, she might as well enjoy herself. She can’t get any filthier – unless she rolls in the pool, and Isis never rolls.

After a wet hour, I leave Isis to play while I squelch back to the house and fill all the plastic receptacles I can find with warm water. Having placed them in the entry by the back door, I add a jug of watered down shampoo. Then off I go to collect the disgusting animal.

 

 

 

The last time I attempted to wash her down  outside  she kicked over the water before I could even get started. Bearing this in mind, and eying her warily, I grasp her collar with one hand and with the other swog her with bottle after bottle, bowl after bowl of water. Even the end of her tail and swatches of the hair on her sides are gritty and spiky with mud.

 

 

 

 

To my surprise, she stands still and lets me wash her.

We return to the kitchen and she is wrapped in a large towel. That’s better. Now she knows the ordeal is over. She leans against me and and begins to wag her tail.

What an admirable animal !

She gets lots of pats and a nice piece of cheddar.

 

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!, Isis at home, relationship building, running running | Tagged , , | 1 Comment