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

Sunday January 10th 2021

Two whole weeks of adventures. Impossible to detail every one. Just as well: you’d all stop following Isis if I did, out of sheer boredom.

Brrrrr. We’ve been having some very cold weather over the last couple of weeks.

Each day, I emerge from the house wearing thermal vest and tights, ancient quilted ski pants, three pairs of socks, a long-sleeved polo necked T-shirt, a long-sleeved polo-necked jumper, two neck warmers, a heavy, warmly lined, hooded and waterproof walking jacket and two pairs of gloves.

Isis has long given up the happy notion that as soon as I wake her, we’re off for our walk. Instead, after a quick visit to the garden, followed by breakfast, she returns to the day bed  and continues snoozing for the ages it takes a dozy human to put on all those layers.

She is a very, very patient dog, fortunately. After all, she is used to the draggingly slow pace at which I meander through the morning routine. A dog has to allow for the fact that every morning her person rediscovers that she can’t get her thermal tights on over three pairs of thick socks, and has to remove all six of the socks she’s just put on.

Or, just as she’s ready to come downstairs, she feels a little shivery and realises that she’s forgotten to put on the thermal vest.

In this scenario, there’s the inevitable dilemma to be pondered: should she not bother, as it might not be as cold today as it was yesterday? Sometimes the weather forecast has to be checked again.

Oh dear, it is as cold as it was yesterday. Off with the jumper, off with the T-shirt. Where’s the thermal vest?

Ah. Vibrations on the stairs. Don’t get excited yet, little dog. Porridge oats must be shaken in sunflower oil for the crows, and a few dog treats pocketed just in case, and, oh dear, where’s the car key? Surely she didn’t put it down on her bed when she went back into the bedroom for the vest?

Yes, she did. She thunders up the stairs to retrieve it.

We’re getting closer to a walk.

Now for her false tooth. Oh “*^! She’s touched something which could be contaminated with The Virus. Best wash her hands again first.

And is her hearing aid firmly ensconced in her ear? Gosh no. Must still be upstairs.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Damn. Not there.

Oh. It’s been dislodged by the first neck warmer.

Ah, but in  rescuing the hearing aid she’s touched her face. Best wash hands again. Or would it be more effective to use the sanitiser? Best do both.

O.K. Now we’re ready to go.

Almost.

We have to remember our driving glasses and our phone. Where the hell’s the phone?

Upstairs? Oh no. Ah, she’s already put it in the inside pocket of her jacket.

Into the porch we go. Now, at last, the ever tolerant Isis allows herself to get excited. She spins and twirls and leaps around. As soon as one front paw is popped through the appropriate loop, Human struggles to pop in the next one. She succeeds, only to see the first paw popping back out.

She feels irritable, and tells Isis she’ll never get to the park at this rate. But hey, look who’s talking.

Human leaves her ebullient little podengo to rave in the porch, and steps back into the hall to retrieve her dog’s car blanket and towel from the radiator.

Quite often there’s another wait once we climb into the car. Something has been forgotten and Human returns to the house to fetch it. But Isis doesn’t mind. She knows we’re on our way.

Almost.

And, usually, we have a lovely time.

*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