Isis comes today. Gulp.
The courier phones. Isis will be the last dog delivered. She’ll be here this evening.
Might she trip over this?
Could she fall into that?
Might this stick into her?
She’ll be here in a few hours
Last few garden hazards dealt with.
She’ll be here in 30 minutes.
I feel sick with anticipation. I am sick with anticipation – several times.
I see Europet van park opposite the house. I stagger across the road with Isis’s new blue spotty collar.
Isis is carried across the road by one of the gentle couriers. The other one hands me a passport and vaccination papers.
Isis is here.
She looks terrified. Stupidly, I pick her up and place her next to me on the futon. She begins to tremble violently. I carry her into the garden.
She explores the garden until the light is almost gone. Then she falls asleep.
I carry her into the kitchen.