Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!
Sunday October 9th 2016
The trouble with grass is that while it disappears into a dog with a quick chomp and a swallow, its exit can be more problematic.
Isis and I have suffered from the latter experience on a couple of occasions this week.
When Hairy One was faced with this embarrassing situation last year, I had to hold onto her collar and clamp her between my legs in order to help her.
This week I am by astonished by her co-operation.
As usual, she alerts me to her difficulties by attacking herself with frantic snarls. As usual, too, I am slow off the mark.”Don’t be silly”, I snarl back at her. She attacks herself even more noisily and aggressively.
Ah. A grass problem. I touch her side gently, and, to my amazement, she stands still, tail still crooked, and waits for me to remove the offending poop.
Later in the week, it happens again. But this time, she only has to effect a symbolic attack on her rear end and I grasp the nature of her predicament.
Again, she stands, tail crooked, and waits for me to sort it.
I am immensely proud of her trust in me, and as we drive home, congratulate us both on our progress.
In fact, by the time we are back, I am very smug and self-congratulatory. She trusts me. She even trusts me to to deal with this most intimate process. Haven’t I done well? What a clever owner!
Where Isis is concerned such over-confidence is never a good idea.
A little cleaning up is necessary, so I fetch a container of warm water and some cotton wool pads. With gentle but firm strokes, I begin to clean the affected area. Too late, I discover a scratchy dead pine stem embedded in her hair. Low, warning growls accompany its careful removal. Then I resume the clean-up.
“Yaff!” She bites my index finger. Hard. I have promised her that I will never smack her again when she bites me.
I don’t. But after an involuntary scream of pain, I growl into her left ear very, very loudly. She looks surprised.
When Isis has endured an unpleasant procedure, such as a long grooming session or being washed, she always trots into her bed inside her big box and waits to be rewarded. And I take her a particularly nice treat.
Deciding that this is such an occasion, she sits demurely and waits.
I stumble into the kitchen, dripping blood onto the floor, and stick my very sore finger under the tap. I wince as the coldness hits the bite. Then it’s a rummage in the animal cupboard for the Sudocrem – Isis and I share two tubs, one kept upstairs in the bedroom, the other down here in the kitchen.
The hard, dried out pine stem must have hurt her. Negligent owner.
Nevertheless, the little hairy toad does not get a treat.
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