Posting day: Sunday, and, sometimes, maybe, extra bits in between.

 

Tuesday August 27th 2019

 

Why is this post appearing on Tuesday, you may wonder: does she think it’s Wednesday?

She might well. It’s not out of character.

But this time, it’s not an error. The post is early because, at around five thirty, five years ago today, something life changing happens.

A Europet van draws up across the road and comes to a halt opposite my house.

I cross the road. I’m feeling quite weak with anxiety. In my hand is a new, blue, spotty collar.

In the van is the last dog the couriers are delivering today.

One of the couriers gets out of the van to confirm who I am. Then he climbs into the back of the van and brings someone out. He places someone on the pavement.

Someone dazed and bedraggled.

Someone hairy and white with grey splodges here and there.

Someone with very long, hairy ears and a spotty pink and black nose.

 

IT’S ISIS.

 

I kneel down on the pavement and look at her. She just sits there, still and bewildered. “Hello”, I say to my deaf/blind dog, and offer her a hand to sniff. She doesn’t sniff the hand. She doesn’t move at all.

I take off her old collar and put on her new one.

I’m probably making her even more anxious, but it feels important, not because it has on it her ID tag. This, of course, is very important, but I’m not thinking about that. I just feel I want to give her something new.

Looking back, I guess that I was claiming her.

The courier picks her up gently and carries her across the road. He takes her into her new home. He puts her down in the hall where she stands, looking lost.

His partner gives me the paperwork and a large bag of the food which Isis has become used to eating since she was found.

They leave.

The rest is history (as they say).

You know that our early years were not always easy.

Did I think that one day she’d be a happy, confident, playful dog?

No.

Did I imagine she’d ever trust me to groom any bit of her which needed grooming?

No way.

Could I envisage a day when she could run and play off the lead in the park, come to find me, or walk beside me?

Absolutely not.

Have I ever regretted adopting her?

No, I haven’t.

Kerry told me while Isis was still in Portugal what a brave little dog she was, and, my goodness, she is.

She has achieved all of the list of things I never thought that she could. And more. She is happy, confident and playful. She puts up with her grooming sessions and bathing, which she hates. She loves exploring off lead in the park, walks most days in the woods with Rufus and Nancy. And doesn’t run away – although she often ventures off-piste!

She’s no lap dog, but she greets me joyfully each morning and will lean against me while I pat and stroke her. Much to my surprise, her heartiest surge of tail wagging occurs when I kiss her muzzle. Perhaps it’s because that’s how dog friends greet each other.

Thank you Aeza. Thank you Dogwatch U.K.

I love my hairy podengo.

 

 

 

 

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