it’s Gotcha day!


A post should appear every Sunday.


Saturday August 27th 2022

But it’s not Sunday until tomorrow!

                      Ah, but it’s a very special day today    ……….


HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY BEAUTIFUL GIRL   !!!!                         HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY BEAUTIFUL GIRL ! !  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!                                     !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!             happy      happy                             BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL GIRL !               !                 HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY         !          !!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY                      BEAUTIFUL GIRL !     HAPPY     !!!!!!!!!!!!                                  !!!!!!!!!!                                      HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY !!!!!        !!!!!!!!!!!!!!                   !!!!!!!!!!!      !          HAPPY    GOTCHA DAY         HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY  !!!!!!!!!!                    !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!          happy      happy happy

  BEAUTIFUL GIRL !                     HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY                   HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY                                 HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY  !! !!!!!!!!!          happy                     !

                                        HAPPY  GOTCHA DAY BEAUTIFUL GIRL !  


You’ve got the message?

On this day in 2014, I meet Isis for the first time. She’s small: she only weighs 9 kilos, and that’s after being rescued and fed properly at Aeza since June.

Goodness knows what she weighed when she arrived there. She is still ravenous when she reaches Birmingham.

Clearly, she’s not lived in a house before, and she’s terrified. She stays in the garden until it is dark, and I carry her in. Then she glues herself to the back door and stays there until she is released into the garden again next morning.

In the garden, and later on in the house, she spins round and round and round until she is too exhausted to spin any more.

Anyway, that was eight years ago today. She now weighs a little over 16 kilos, which the vet thinks is fine. She no longer grabs food from my plate, or picks up unspeakably disgusting bits in the park. She eats well, but sometimes, when it’s a very hot day, or she is upset about something, she’ll leave her breakfast until evening.

If she thinks I might be going for a walk without her, she’ll abandon her food bowl and rush to the front door to have her harness put on.

Her special harness dropped out of my pocket last Tuesday in Highbury Park. I am astonished when I take her to the pet shop and she needs an ‘extra large’. Later I realise that this is because she is so outrageously fluffy.

Even though I have clipped her three times since spring, I notice that she has been surruptitiously growing back her hair.








Of course, I love her dearly. Who woudn’t?

So imagine how much I look forward to picking her up from Hollytrees.

At least, I say humourously to my friend when she drops me off at Oakham station, travelling back has to be more straightforward than the outward journey.

We say goodbye and she rushes to retrieve her car from its idiosyncratic perch on the kerb above the double yellow lines. I walk over the bridge to discover that the train is late.

Never mind. I wait, and think about picking up Isis.

There’s a long queue waiting to climb aboard the first two carriages, so I decide to drift down to the middle of the train.

Soon be home.

Then, as I step towards the train, horror of horrors, the door clangs shut.

I leap towards it, trip over my outsized suitcase and my left knee smashes onto the concrete platform with a sickening crunch.

Pain and shock hit me. Like a tipped over turtle, I struggle to move.

I look up in time to see a teenaged lad a carriage away swing open the door nearest to him, so that all the other doors reopen and the train remains stationary. He has witnessed the debacle, and looks very concerned. He obviously wants to help, and steps down onto the platform. I am afraid that he might miss the train himself, and I signal to him to get back onto the train and hold the door open from the inside. Fortunately, he has had the presence of mind to keep one hand in the doorway, preventing the door from closing.

Now I am upright but tottery. Two elderly ladies who happen to be passing, call out and wave frantically to station personnel, one of whom runs towards us. The ladies rescue my backpack and shoulder bag. I sign a big ‘thank you’ to the young passenger who saved the day, thank the ladies, and pick up my case.

As I do so I feel something trickling from my knee, and see that blood is rapidly seeping through the leg of my dungarees.

As I clambour aboard, I realise that the incident has been observed by all the passengers on the platform side of the train.

Assuming an expression of what I hope looks like calmness and nonchalence, I limp to a seat and wiggle my suitcase under the table.

As the train sets off, the man opposite me raises his eyebrows quizzically and smiles.

I smile back.

After a decent interval, I get a pack of plasters out of my bag, and hiding my knee under the end of the table, stick four or five of them over the wound.

I’m lucky. At New Street, there’s a train to Northfield waiting on the platform. And even the 18 bus only takes about ten minutes to come. My knee is still bleeding, but otherwise I feel fine.

Once home, I dump all my stuff, drink a glass of water, and drive to fetch my Isis.

I wait impatiently for her carer to appear with her.

And here she is, whiffling her spotty nose to pick up my scent. She leans into me, and her tail can’t stop wagging. She even allows me to give her hugs.

Now, that’s what you’d expect a dog to do, isn’t it?

Not this dog, though. She used not to acknowledge me at all when I picked her up from the kennels. She just stood and waited for me to lead her away.

But now I relish the most enthusiastic greeting I’ve ever had from her.

We’re very needy, we humans.


Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact or go to



This entry was posted in a joyful dog, a terrified dog, deaf/blind dog arrives in new home, dear little Isis, Isis at Hollytrees, Isis at home, oh dear, poor Isis, relationship building, scenting, sleeping arrangements, strange behaviour and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to it’s Gotcha day!

  1. Woo hoo for the gotcha day! Sorry for your misstep, ouch. Feel better. I hope it wasn’t serious


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.