Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!
Sunday January 24th 2016
On Friday morning we have a crazy walk in the park. It is raining heavily. Again. The ground is still saturated so Hairy One cannot be let loose on her retractable lead to cavort on the grass. Instead, we continue our ‘learning-to-walk-in-a-civilised-fashion’ lessons. Isis, evidently unaware of this, leaps madly up and down, left and right, forwards and backwards. On the upsweep she snaps eagerly at the rain flies; on her way down she grabs at any twigs she can reach.
Finally, I limp wearily towards the car park and, since her sustained manic forays have (temporarily) wearied her, she walks calmly by my side. As we pass our friend P. she remarks on how well the heel walking is going. Morosely, I enlighten her.
A visitor, C. arrives shortly after we reach home. As soon as Isis, whose feet are wet and muddy, has finished her breakfast, she is left in the back room so that she may dry out on her thick fleece.
She feels this to be an ill-willed and arbitrary decision. But she doesn’t whine or bark. For a few minutes she is very quiet. “Ah,” I think to myself, “She’s fallen asleep.”
While C. and I discuss our work, we become aware of muffled thumps. We ignore them and continue.
The thumps grow louder, but I am determined not to give in to feisty podengo.
As we continue to work, the background noises rise until they reach a level reminiscent of a busy building site.
BAMF! BUMP! CLANK! CLONK! CLUNK!
But Isis has not been building.
She is in the demolition business.
Everything in the room has been moved except for the bookcase and the futon. The rug has been heaved from the centre of the room, shaken vigorously and dumped in front of the fire. The fireguard has been dragged from the fireside to the bookcase. She has tossed her bed into the centre of the room and emptied out all of her toys. The shelf of the little white trolley has been emptied, the trolley slammed against the futon and the futon cushions hurled onto the floor.
As I walk into the middle of the room and gaze speechless at her handiwork, she exits and retires upstairs to sleep.
All in all, she is quite worn out.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org or www.dogwatchuk.co.uk