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

Wednesday May 31st 2017

Polymath tells me that in the last post Isis gave the impression that Lily’s person was about to be incarcerated. Not so. She was doubled up with pain and taken off to hospital  in an ambulance.  She came back home on Sunday evening and was reunited with Lily on Monday.

Lily is only two years old and an extremely lively little dog. She was already six months old when J. took her on and had not had a very good start in life. Manic but very sweet sums her up, I think.

She loves being in a car. When we arrive at dog training she refuses to leave the car and J. has to heave her out. The same thing happens when we arrive back at her house. The only time she is willing to jump off the back seat is when she realises she’s in the park!

J. and I wondered what would happen when Lily was returned home, J. being of the opinion that Lily would, as usual, glue herself to the car seat.

She sat up very straight as I parked in her road, her little brown nose pressed against the window, and her ears twitching.

This time she needed no persuasion to exit the car. She popped out with a look of delighted disbelief on her little face and hurried to the front door. When it opened, she shot in and down the hall. She was, of course, delighted to see her person.

Because J. needs time to recover, Lily comes with Isis and me for long morning walks. When I picked her up yesterday, I thought that she might be reluctant to come with us in case she was being taken away again. When she was staying with us she flattened herself on the floor each time I tried to put her harness on her, something she never does at home. She must have been afraid that she was to be taken away somewhere else.

But I needn’t have worried. Each time we arrive to collect her, she is eager to be put into her harness and can’t wait to jump into the car.

Today when I return her, J. insists that Isis comes in too.

For the first time, Isis allows herself to be guided in through a strange front door, and, sniffing everything she passes – doors, walls, floor and furniture – follows me to the back of the house.

J. and I go into the kitchen to make coffee. When, on my return, I behold Isis executing a recce dance on the carpet, I decide that perhaps she should be introduced to the garden.

We take our coffee outside into J.s beautifully tended garden which is full of flowers. But we don’t have to worry about Isis trampling them since they are all growing in containers.  That’s the good news. The bad news is that there are dozens of pots and troughs for poor Isis to crash into.

Lily runs around the garden, wagging excitedly. Large amounts of soil have been dug out of several of the large pots, and J. believes that a fox visited overnight. Lily, who appears to be of the same opinion, dashes back and forth excitedly, nose to the ground.

Isis has never shown much interest in foxes. Cat scents, however, send her into paroxysms of excitement. There is an area at the bottom of the garden which is frequented by neighbouring cats who pop over the fence and onto next door’s garage roof in order to tease Lily.

We watch, fascinated, as Isis sniffs her way cautiously towards the path. She lifts her front paws high off the ground, like a canine goose stepper, only placing a paw firmly on the path when she is sure there is no obstacle in the way. She spends at least an hour in the garden, navigating her way round dozens of containers without once banging into one.

She carefully climbs the four steps up to the concrete area frequented by cats, and, stretching out her toes to gauge the depth of the steps, makes her way down again. She does this at least half a dozen times. She is enthralled by the scents and each time she ascends, stops at the top to leap and twirl.

Now and then she makes her way down to where we are sitting, then checks me out and gives J. a quick sniff before winding her way carefully in and out of a curve of giant flower pots and back to the cat platform.

I am delighted. And I am very impressed with Hairy One. She is even more confident today than she was during her first social call last week. She is surprisingly eager to explore and her tail stays high throughout the visit.

Proud of my little dog?

Not’arf!

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 kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk