A post should appear every Sunday

Sunday July 16 2023

This week we stick to Kings Heath Park, hoping that Isis will be happier with what is familiar to her; the weather this week though, couldn’t be less helpful as heavy showers alternate with sunny periods.

It’s Monday, and I’m up very late, as I am every day except Thursday when I have an appointment. Don’t worry, Isis and I have loafed together on the day bed until the early hours, so she’s not desperate to be let out. She is, however, peeved that her breakfast is late.

Today it’s ridiculously sunny in the morning, but improves (from Hairy One’s point of view) as the day goes on. When we leave for our walk, it’s pleasantly dull. Promising. When it’s time to get out of the car, of course, the weather brightens.

*** it!

I leave on the reluctant one’s harness and leash until we’ve wrestled our way across the car park, past the greenhouses and onto the beginning of the steep slope down to the little copse. She always seagues into co-operative mood at this point. Almost every dog, from those whose conscientious owners walk them at six a.m., to those who walk in the twilight, pass along this path, so now Isis is fully engaged.

Squirted along the lower edge of the dense hawthorne hedge, are many interesting messages which demand a reply; consequently, her replies are reduced to pinheads by the time we reach the dangerous gap in the hedge. Never mind, as we know, dogs have amazingly keen noses.

Through this gap, impetuous canines fling themselves in order to leap – or wade,  according to preference – into the deep pool of thick, malodorous mud the other side of the hedge. Isis is a wader, so I block of the gap until she’s passed it.

A light shower begins, and a spritely Isis pads onto the old bowling green, eagerly sniffing and fuffing. It’s months since she last walked on this grass, and, she’s fully engaged with  picking up on the scents of other creatures.

Then, suddenly, she is leaping up in the air, nosing the rain drops. Today, I follow her as she wanders up the grassy incline and onto the next level. Here she finds more scents and, nose on the trail, even has a little trot.

By the time we set off for home, we have spent forty-five minutes in the park. She is contented and I am very relieved.

Of course, every walk does not follow this happy pattern. There are days when we set off under an obligingly grey sky, only to be scuppered by the sun blasting through and the pesky sky turning bright blue.

On these days Isis hastily defacates, then suggests that we return home. So we do.

Because the weather is so capricious, and it rains heavily at some point every day, we often find ourselves alone in the park, even Dave and his gardening team being occupied with indoor tasks. At these times Isis The Unsociable enjoys the park most.

Thursday is one of these days, and she even prances around on the grass, jaws wide apart,  snapping at the raindrops. I love to see her doing this. It brings back the times, not so long ago, when she would chase rain, falling leaves and snowflakes tirelessly.

Nostalgia

On Friday it’s pouring down when we leave the house, and for the first time in months, Hairy One sets off gleefully along the pavement. I have to loop her lead over the gate while I extract my new waterproof trousers from the car boot, and fight my way into them. This task is made more difficult than usual, because I already have on my winter dog walking boots which are caked with dry mud and won’t allow themselves to be forced through the legs. These waterproofs are more sophisticated than my disgustingly filthy old ones were, and have zips and press studs almost up to the waistband.

How I laughed as the rain ran down the back of  my neck! Not.

Needless to say, we’ve not gone far when the rain stops. Isis, of course, stops too.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

That’s me, not Isis. She wants to go home. I am tired, irritable, and have fierce heartburn because I stupidly swallowed a strong antibiotic alongside paracetamol. (When we get home, I read the instructions which warn me that the two are incompatible.) I insist that she walks on, as it’s only a few metres before we turn off and she realises that we’re on the home circuit; moreover, as I keep telling her, I know that the rain will begin again any minute. Soon, she, too can smell imminent rain, and we are able to complete our first road walk for over a week.

Today, at last, she walks closely by my side off lead down the main path: I’m very pleased with her because until today, she has baulked at setting paw on this particular path, even though she has walked it hundreds of times. When she veers off onto the big field, I follow her: she make her way slowly, and still alert to the sniff-worthy scents, back to the car park.

Hmmmm. This week has been very instructive.

My Isis definitely has a problem, and I think I have now worked out what is causing it.

But more of that next week!

Isis came from Aeza cat and dog rescue in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@azea.org or go to http://www.dogwatch.co.uk.