Hudls and cuddles



Posting days: Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday.




Well, sloping off early to bed for catch-up t.v. on the Hudl isn’t working out quite as I’d envisaged. No problem with the sloping off. No problem with the Hudl. Very happy with it. For forgetful people, catch-up t.v. is a good option. I actually get to see a whole series –  even if it is all at once.

No, the problem, of course, is white and hairy. And knows her own mind.

It’s Thursday night and I have no sooner settled in bed with coffee and Hudl, than a muffled clump-clumping announces the imminent arrival of Isis. Quickly, I switch off the lamp and shove the Hudl under the duvet. Hairy One, as we know, doesn’t like lights. If the lamp is on, she stands  on the landing growling indignantly. If she sees the light of the tablet, more growls. And she doesn’t care for fidgeting either. Sigh.

Never mind, we must be adaptable. Once she’s asleep, I can emerge from under the bedclothes and watch for as long as I want.

When she wakes up in the morning, she’s a different dog.

Today, for the second time, I take advantage of her chirpiness and sneak in a few light brushes of her rear end as we play ‘put on my collar’.

Later, we return from our walk. As usual, I pick up her water bowl before feeding her to avoid her dancing in it as she devours her food. I forget to replace the water.

Loud laps. She’s gone upstairs to drink from her bowl on the landing.

I follow her and in the bedroom pick up the brush to take downstairs. I always groom her downstairs and I always ‘show’ her the brush so that she knows what is about to happen. On cue, she trots into her back room bed for the inevitable grooming. This morning, to my surprise, as soon as she smells the brush in my hand, she pops into her upstairs dog bed.  She’s only used it once or twice before and that was on the expectation of a treat.

Obliging as ever, I brush and comb her head, neck, chest and her beautiful ears. She lies down. I venture down her back with the brush but stop when she growls softly, resuming after a while, stopping again if she complains. When I’ve finished, she yawns and stretches out her neck, resting her chin on my knee.

She’s been persuaded to walk twice round the park this morning and she’s eaten a large breakfast. Generally, except for the ritual morning greeting, a quick pat is all she is up for. But she’s tired and I’m feeling soppy. She allows me to stroke her until she falls asleep.



07-08-2015 Isis in tartan bed 002




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 or  www.dogwatchuk.c

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