Sunday

Ji. and I take Isis out early today as the dry weather is supposed to break at one. But a sleety rain begins just after twelve and Isis, of course, goes into rain flies mode, flinging  herself and me hither and thither as she leaps and lunges, snapping her teeth at the droplets like a demented crocodile.

Generally now, she walks in quite a civilised manner unless she’s off after a particularly alluring scent. But when attacking her various ‘flies’ she seems to lose any sense of danger and flings herself around in all directions. My energy has to be focused on preventing her from bashing herself against any tree, fence, wall or other stationary or moving object in her path. As we zig-zag along, I fantasise men, women and children felled by Isis and lying in wet heaps in our wake or bound by her dog leads to the trees.

Not wishing to spend Sunday afternoon in  the A&E department, Ji. walks well ahead of us.

When we return I begin to dry the wet hairy one. She flies into a rage spin. I hold her until she subsides and she then allows me to dry her face, back and each foot without further protest.

She is restless in the front room and nibbling herself. I distract her continuously but before I realise it she has shaved a back foot.

I’m not sure whether she’s done this because she’s still wound up by the sleet flies, because she’s irritated by the bright light in the room or whether it’s just that she’s tired. Maybe it’s a combination of all these.

Before she did the deed, I had noted with pleasure that all of her bald patches had regrown their hair. That’ll teach me not to be complacent.

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.com