Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!
Sunday May 29th 2016
It’s Thursday and early evening. Isis and I leave Gr., Sa., Conchobar and Keiko on the old bowling green and make our way up to the next level, Hairy One’s favourite running area. We often take this path. Isis knows it well so I don’t lock her extending lead. She sniffs her way carefully behind me.
So far, so good. ‘Our’ space is empty. Just right for free running. All is well.
But it’s not. From below, Gr. watches as Isis suddenly abandons her gentle walk, shoots off at an angle and runs straight towards a tree. There is no time to warn me of the impending disaster, and by the time I feel a jerk on the lead and spin round her little face is centimetres from the tree.
Thwack! Her beautiful pink spotty nose smacks into the trunk and stops her dead. She doesn’t cry – she never does when she is hurt. She usually attacks herself but this time she is too shocked to do anything. She just stands by the tree looking stunned. I rush over to comfort her.
She has scraped a thumbnail sized chunk of skin off her nose which is bleeding steadily. The poor little creature looks very frightened. Her tail is down between her legs and she licks her nose miserably. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t want to run. She wants to go home.
Slowly and sadly, we make our way towards the car, Isis licking her poor nose. I have been very stupid. I should know by now that she is prone to spontaneous spurts. Now she could be seriously hurt. She might have broken her nose or any bone in her face, broken a leg, sprained her neck, knocked herself unconscious. Ellie had a blow to her nose and years later developed a nasal cancer.
At home, Isis eats her meal as usual. Thank goodness.
But she is very subdued for the rest of the evening and the night. She lies on the futon. She doesn’t move until I rouse her to go outside. Not when I sit down next to her with a meal. Not when the phone rings. Nor during my hour’s conversation. Unheard of.
I curse myself. Even if she’s not damaged, she’ll not want to run again.
She plods solemnly after me as I go upstairs that night. She settles on the bed. She sleeps until I wake her in the morning.
She seems O.K. She wags her tail as usual when I place her collar round her neck. She is eager to go out. When we reach the park, she is as eager as ever to jump out of the car.
She appears to be fine. And she can’t wait to run.
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