A post should appear each Sunday but hey! It’s holiday time, so things are a bit different. Isis and her human are taking the next two weekends off, and, hopefully, will be posting again on Sunday January 9th – if my adding up is accurate.
Thursday December 22th 2021
The Christmas card debacle occurred because the cards, which I ordered online several weeks ago, didn’t arrive until late on Saturday. Isis and I had arranged to visit J. on Sunday afternoon after our walk, and afterwards, by the time I had written most of the cards, it was 2.00 a.m. and I was good for nothing.
Yes, I know I didn’t post on Wednesday. I’ll not bore you with excuses. Sorry.
As we creep towards the end of 2021, I will leave you with a conundrum.
This year, Isis and I seem to have consolidated what we have learned from each other, and I grow more fond of the little toad each day.
Sometimes it occurs to me that she might not feel the same about me.
Take last week, for example.
If, for any reason, I have to leave her at home on her own for a few hours, or I’ve been preoccupied, and she hasn’t had the amount of attention a dog deserves, or I fall asleep and can’t be bothered to go to bed, I spend the night with her on the day bed. This is no sacrifice: she is as warm as a little convector heater but much squishier, and I have a supply of pillows and a duvet stashed at my end of the day bed. Usually, we sort out our sleeping positions without any arguments, and everything is nice and cosy.
One afternoon, I strip the day bed and replace all our bed linen with pristine items.
That night I snuggle under the fragrant duvet, and settle myself contentedly on the equally fragant pillows.
‘Little Isis will be so pleased,’ I tell myself. ‘Isn’t this lovely sweetheart?’, I intone in my sloppiest voice.
Isis promptly stands up and jumps off the bed.
I guess she wants a drink of water.
She pads into the hall, pauses, then returns to settle herself on the floorboards below me.
She’s never done this before in all the seven years and five months she’s lived with me. Perhaps there’s something wrong. Has something fallen into her drinking bowl? Did I forget to check the level of water in her bowl? Has she finished her water?
I wriggle out of my warm nest to check. She pads after me into the the kitchen. No, as I thought, her water is fresh and her drinking bowl is full. She follows me back to the day bed, waits until I creep in, and then she returns to her previous spot on the floor.
I wait. Several times, she shuffles, sits up and lies down again.
I lean over to stroke and pat her. I whisper sweet nothings into her nearest ear. I pat the bed forcefully, indicating that she should jump up onto her blanket.
Realising, perhaps, that I am requesting some response, she gets up, walks over to her own bed, then lies in it, looking solemn. I pick her up and deposit her on the day bed. I check to make sure that there’s nothing stuck in her hair, or any tender spots on her body. She has shown no sign of discomfort or distress at any time in the day, and, as I expect, I find nothing.
As soon as I approach the bed, she gets off, and returns to her chosen spot on the floor.
Eventually, I take the hint. I put away my stuff and leave the room. I make a coffee. When I peer round the door, there she is, on the day bed, on her clean blanket, relaxed and ready for sleep.
I have to admit, I feel somewhat disgruntled. “Please yourself then”, I mutter, before covering her with a clean mini-fleece.
What on earth is the matter with her?
I can only guess, so I’d really appreciate your suggestions.
After all, the silly teasers inside your Christmas crackers are pretty uninspiring, aren’t they? You’d be much more challenged by trying to solve this one!
SEASON’S GREETINGS TO YOU ALL, AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A POSITIVE AND REWARDING NEW YEAR.