A post should appear every Sunday
Sunday September 24th 2023
When Isis stayed at S’s cottage last year, she always slept at the bottom of the stairs, a couple of feet away from her bed. S has generously invited us to stay again, and she must feel more relaxed this time, as she stretches out on the carpet close to where we sit in the evening with our glasses of wine.
Generally, once she’s played her treats games and has settled down to sleep, she’s doesn’t stir if one of us comes downstairs, but one night she barks her warning bark at 1.30 a.m. I go down and check that all is well, but she is back in resting dog mode now.
The cottage is very close to the road, so I guess that a person or persons wallked past ‘her territory’ on their way back from the pub.
Strange though it seems, she is, and always has been, an excellent guard dog. At home I always keep her on a very short lead if we are crossing the pavement to go to the car. I know that she’ll attack anyone who dares to walk across her section of pavement – unless they have a dog with them!
She is still very wary of strange dogs, and when we walk along the narrow little track which cuts through the sand dunes, she virtually glues herself to the bank when she smells an oncoming canine.
My friend C. is not an animal person, but since I am still using one crutch in the aftermath of my hip replacement, she kindly takes the lead when we’re walking.
Although Gwithian is delightfully quiet away from the traffic, surfers flock to the sea, and there are quite a number of holiday apartments close to the beach, so the road outside the cottage is extremely busy. The cottage is situated between two very tight blind bends, and crossing over to the other side is somewhat challenging.
Unfortunately, Isis is in an ‘I do not wish to walk to anywhere (unless Nick takes me)’ phase; consequently, the infuriating animal proceeds – or not – across the road at the pace of a seaman walking the plank. Envisioning an imminent vehicle pile up, C. has to drag Isis across the road while I nudge her hairy bottom (Isis’s, not C’s).
Fortunately, on the other hand, I soon become aware that almost every vehicle slows down and stops as soon as the driver discerns that s/he is about to mow down an invalid – for some reason, most people seem reluctant to kill the elderly, particularly the elderly with mobility challenges, so I hobble on one crutch just ahead, or very close behind them, and we all cross the road in a dignified fashion, and with limbs intact.
Phew!
Once we’ve dodged the road-crossing hazard, Isis continues to resist until we shove encourage her onto a very narrow, grassy track where there are enticing new scents. There are tall wild flowers and grasses on either side of us now, and Isis walks ahead sniffing. Metaphorically, C and I wipe our perspiring brows and follow on.
I remind C to act quickly if, or, more accurately when, the obstinate animal slyly executes a quick, u-turn, as she frequently does. The warning is necessary in order to save C. from having to run after the reprobate, who will be hurrying off in the direction of ‘home’.
Often I wonder whether the little toad would have preferred to stay at Ray’s kennels for the week; however, when she’s lying contentedly on S’s old jacket, allowing the animal loving friends she made last year at the Wednesday coffee morning, to stroke her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, I know she’s a happy dog.
She’s a puzzling one too.
Generally, though it sometimes takes me a while, I can work out what seems, to me, at least, a reasonable explanation for Hairy One’s behaviours.
As to why she never lies on her bed or even touches her toys while she’s away from home, Dog knows!
Clearly, she has a very strong opinion on what one does or does not do when away from home.
Actually, she seems to have a very strong opinion about everything.
But then, she is a podengo.
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.
