Oh, Isis

 

After Saturday’s trauma, and before attending the walk-in GP clinic in Katie Road,  I drive again to the park so that Isis can have a walk. But, not surprisingly, Isis doesn’t want to walk. I urge her on. She sits down. I tug the lead. She refuses. I carry her a short distance. She pulls to go back. She only wants to get to her car.

A stupid idea of mine. We return home.

All evening we lie on the futon. A large and delightful slice of lemon drizzle cake – made by Connor – is delivered to my door. Isis has a large tea and I eat the cake. Comfort food. Delicious.

But Isis is still very wound up, full of adrenalin. She attacks her foot continuously, snarling and growling.

All through the night there are fits of growling and snarling. Each episode is followed by two sharp barks.

Now (early Sunday evening) she is resting at last.

No more multiple leads. She will travel in a cage, secured only by her safety belt. Her dual lead arrangement will be for road walks only.

We live and learn.

 

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