Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.
Sunday June 2nd 2019
Before we leave Highbury to go our separate ways – Bev and the doodles to Moseley, Isis and I to the car park – we sometimes walk towards the High Street together.
We do this on Tuesday after our walk round the park. The rain, light as we make our way over the landscaped grass, soon becomes heavier.
Bev and I shelter with the sensible doodles beneath a huge beech tree with layers of waterproof foliage.
Isis, of course, has other ideas. She runs and dances maniacally on the undulating grass.
The heavy rain becomes a deluge. In celebration she picks up a large stick, and trots off with renewed vigour.
By the time the sky lightens, she is absolutely soaked. And very, very happy.
We leave the others and walk back towards the car park.
She chooses the interesting route over the stepping stones, and, sure, she pauses once or twice for a quick twirl, but a light touch on the side of her head soon gets her back on piste.
Wonderful, wet Wednesday follows, with more delightfully soggy adventures.
On these happy days, Hairy One returns for her tea and is soon flat out on the day bed.
But then Thursday arrives and it’s the worst Isis weather imaginable.
Sporadically, a bright ball of sun bursts through the glowering grey cloud. It’s a long time since the light was as changeable as this.
We try to lead her onto the shadier woodland tracks, turn her away from the brighter ones, but she is terrified.
She is disorientated, and has to be guided round obstacles which she usually navigates easily on her own.
She lies down, is lifted back onto her feet, lies down again.
I clip on her lead. This usually reassures her.
We walk slowly down onto the meadow, towards the landscaped area which she enjoyed so much on Tuesday. Perhaps she’ll feel calmer here.
But no. She creeps along close to the ground, tail clamped between her legs, ears drooping.
Then she flattens herself on the grass. This time, no amount of tugging, realigning or cajoling will move her.
As soon as I turn round, she’s up and trotting towards the main path.
She’s no interest in anything along the way. Her only aim is to get to the car as soon as she can.
When we reach home, she rushes down the hall and leaps onto the day bed.
I know that she’s hungry. She even has mackerel in her dish. But she’ll not get up to eat.
I feel so sorry for her that I serve her tea in bed, and sit by her as she eats.
*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 email@example.com or www.dogwatchuk.co.uk