Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’
Wednesday May 16th 2018
The good news: Isis appears to have got over her nocturnal snarling.
The bad news: now we have nocturnal woofing.
I use the word ‘woofing’ advisedly. The sound she makes isn’t the ear piercing clatter of an alarmed dog, nor is it the warning bark which announces there’s someone or something coming too close to her house.
It’s the subdued but irritating iteration of a dog who is demanding that something be done: Woof! Woof! …………………. Woof! Woof!
Upstairs, I try in vain to concentrate on my catch-up t.v.
After about thirty minutes, and seconds after a loud woof, I hurry downstairs. Isis is lying stretched out on the day bed, muzzle on her paws, the picture of a relaxed, sleeping dog.
I go back to bed.
Off she goes again. Woof! Woof! …………………. Woof! Woof!
She goes on and on and on. And on. Eventually I return downstairs and join the little pest on the day bed.
I give her my hand to smell. She gives a small, disgruntled yaff. I offer my hand again.
She gives my thumb a little nip.
I give her rump a little smack.
Then, heaving a contented sigh, she falls deeply asleep.
After about fifty minutes I edge myself carefully from the day bed, taking great care not to nudge her as I draw up my knees, lift my feet clear of her extremities and swivel millimetre by millimetre until I can lower my feet to the floor.
Once clear of the bed, of course, I can make as much noise as I like since she can’t hear me. Even so, I find myself creeping upstairs.
As I creep, the cause of her nocturnal performance dawns on me. I remember that it has happened twice before. On all three occasions I’d fallen asleep on the day bed the night before and slept there with Isis until morning.
She feels that this should continue. A dog belongs with its human.
She hasn’t slept upstairs for months as I’ve been unable to carry her down in the morning.
When I’ve recovered from the operation on my left shoulder – provisional date August 3rd – I’ll buy Hairy One a sling and let her come upstairs again.
Just then, my musings are interrupted by baleful yowls from the bedroom. Daisy cat is reminding me that reintroducing Isis upstairs will be a challenge.
Daisy now considers the first floor to be her domain.
Oh well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. As they say.
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