A post should appear each Sunday!
Sunday October 10th 2021
Oh dear. Oh dear.
After her apparent improvement, poor Hairy One’s frantic scritching resurges. The skin on the outside of her ears is red again, as are all four pawpits, and I find a scab on her lower back.
I feel very sorry for the poor little creature. Every time she scratches, I jump to it and place a cold hand (my hands are almost always cold) on the hot spot. Previously, she snapped and tried to grab my hand. Now she growls, but allows me to touch her. Perhaps the cold hand gives her some relief.
At the beginning of the week I phone the veterinary practice to ask whether I should increase the dose of Apoquil from 32mg to 64 mg daily. Unfortunately, her vet is working at another branch of the practice. The receptionist says she will try to catch him and will get back to me.
I increase the dose that evening, but then realise that I’ll not have enough tablets to last until her next appointment: she is booked for a booster and a wellness check on October 15th.
For the next few days, she scritches and scritches. She has to wear her Elizabethan collar most of the time.
When I’ve still not heard by Thursday, I ring the practice again. The receptionist apologises. I explain Isis’s problem and we’re offered an appointment for 9.00 next morning.
I am very surprised when the vet comes out to fetch Isis. It’s A., the excellent vet who was working at KHVC when I moved Isis there after she’d been misdiagnosed, and became very unwell.
Some of you might recall that I’d tried to get through to the practice for forty minutes while poor Isis lay in a heap in the park.
I contacted another practice and was offered an appointment as soon as we could get there.
At this new practice, A. diagnosed severe dermatitis which, she was almost certain, had been triggered by an allergy. Given appropriate treatment, the condition gradually cleared.
I was told by a dog walker that there was a high turnover at the practice, so when A. moved on, so did we.
On Friday, my dog trots off happily with A., who remembers that Isis needs chin taps to get her walking in the required direction.
I think that the return journey must have begun very slowly, as soon I behold A. striding into the reception area. She’s carrying something white and hairy. Its four legs are dangling, and it looks rather sheepish.
Isis has been given a double dose of an anti-allergy injection. She is to continue the lower dose of Apoquil for two weeks, by which time the injection should have kicked in. If Isis seems to be thriving, the tablets can then be stopped.
We have an appointment for a check-up in a month’s time.
I have high hopes as Nancy (Bev’s dog) who has had severe allergies for years, is thriving on this same monthly injection.
But something most unexpected happens.
After the injection, Isis scratches less and less. Unbelieveably, I’ve not seen her scratch once today.
True, I have been mixing anti-allergy food in with her usual dry food. But the food only arrived on Friday. It can’t be having any effect yet.
Today we have a good, long walk along the little path which runs above the canal, then come back via the tow path.
After a brief stop for a coffee, I take Isis to visit J. We sit outside and Isis is full of beans, exploring the grounds, and getting very excited about some particularly riveting scents.
J. provides chocoate swiss roll. When we’ve demolished our slices, someone hunts vigorously around J.’s shoes searching for minute crumbs.
Then she jumps up and down, and barks at something J. and I can’t see or hear. After a while, J. realises children are playing about a hundred yards away on the other side of the wall. Obviously, she’s picked up their scent.
When she is not otherwise occupied, she jogs on the spot, and paws me for attention. She wants pats and hair rufflings. And more. And more.
Amazing. She just doesn’t behave like this.
What’s in this new medication?, I wonder!
Lately, she has chosen to lie on his carpet while J. and I are outside.
But not today.
Not until much later, when we retreat into the flat to escape a cold breeze, does Hairy One follow us in, stretch out on the floor and sleep.
It’s now approaching nine o’clock. I have been with my Isis all day, and have not observed even a single scritch.
I am delighted, of course. But I’m very puzzled too.
There’s something most peculiar going on here, me thinks.