shall we dance?



Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

Sunday November 13th 2016


It’s Thursday. Feeling weary, achy and sorry for myself, I snuffle my way to bed. It’s only a cold, but I’m having an early night. Isis settles down close by and, very obligingly, doesn’t object to the Kindle. After reading for an hour or two, I put the Kindle in a drawer, have a few slugs of water, self-indulgently arrange pillows around the achy bits and wait for sleep. Numerous throat-rending sneezes later, it’s after 3.00 a.m. and I’m still awake. Isis, of course, sleeps on.

Eventually, I drop off.



A warm weight slips from the bed and onto the floor with a soft ‘flumph’. I glance at the radio alarm. It’s five-fifty eight.

What? I mutter very rude words.

It’s very unusual for Isis to get up before me. Perhaps she wants a drink. She doesn’t. She must need to go out. I get up and go into the bathroom. When I return, it’s obvious that Iris does not wish to go out. She lies on the mat, next to the bed, wagging her tail and looking very cheerful.

Deciding that my best move would be to return to bed, I creep back under the duvet and keep very, very still. Hopefully, if I do nothing interesting, she’ll just get bored, return to bed and go back to sleep.

After about twenty minutes, she does, indeed, return to bed.

But not, alas, to sleep.

Instead, she begins to dance.

Yes, dance. With graceful little leaps and bounds, she bounces back and forth across my legs kicking my shins as she goes. I shuffle from side to side, attempting to avoid her jabbing little feet. This strategy doesn’t work so I turn over onto my stomach. Surely she’ll wear herself out soon.

She doesn’t. But now she’s jumping on my achy calves. I can’t believe this is happening. For several days now, it’s been quite dull in the mornings: this morning it’s unusually bright for November. Yes, that must be it. The brightness has woken her. And it’s not long since the hour went back. The poor little dog’s confused. She thinks it’s earlier than it is. If I put the Doggles on her, no doubt she’ll calm down

I do.

She doesn’t.

Instead, her dancing becomes more vigorous. Poing! Poing! Poing! The mattress rises, sinks, rises again. On and on and on. Less than restful.

The situation’s ridiculous. Normal people don’t put up with this kind of behaviour. I give her a few smart jabs in the ribs from under the duvet. She pauses for a second, before continuing with, it appears to me, even more gusto.

I could take her downstairs. But she’d bark and disturb the neighbours. I could go into the spare room and close the door behind me. But it’s cold in there. Anyway, it seems unkind. I’m (almost) sure she’s not doing it to just to annoy me.

Enough’s enough. It’s past seven now.

I sit up, click on the light, carefully prise open the velcro straps of her Thundershirt and bundle her into it. She’s in an exceptionally cheery mood and hardly comments.

Within ten minutes, she’s fast asleep.

Praise the Lord. Whoever s/he/it is.


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

This entry was posted in deaf/blind dog plays, dear little Isis, strange behaviour and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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