A post should appear every Sunday

Sunday February 18th 2024

On Thursday, Bev kindly picks us up and takes us to Highbury. I lift Isis into the front with me, but she trembles, shudders and shakes all the way there. After she has sniffed her way around what seems like every inch of vegetation in the park, she jumps into the car without any prompting, and settles down without even a shiver.

I am very surprised by this, but Bev has always thought that the ‘other people’s cars’ phobia arises from the many times last year when I was up and down to Leeds, and Isis was left at the kennels, often when she’d only been home again for a few days.

On Friday it suddenly occurs to me that I might at least phone my car insurer to check what my status is as a temporarily one-eyed driver. Pessimistic as ever, I’d just assumed that the response would be negative.

I explain the surgeon’s comment that I am capable of driving but that my insurance company could dispute any claim and would probably not cover me. The helpline lady checks this out and returns to tell me that it’s fine, cover is not a problem.

Thinking about it, I guess this makes sense because my company installs a little black box which monitors one’s driving, so if I drive on the wrong side of the road, over someone’s front garden, accelerate wildly, or execute a three point turn in the fast lane of a motorway, they will be notified promptly.

I am, of course, delighted, and poor Isis, who has long ago given up standing hopefully by the car, is very pleasantly surprised.

How wonderful to be able to take her to the park again! And good for me too, to see people and pat dogs I’ve not seen for weeks. I am being very cautious, and only driving to Kings Heath and Highbury parks, and to Holders Woods’ fields.

Isis is in the sniffer’s seventh heaven: over the last few weeks, so many creatures have frequented these open spaces, that she runs out of pee after a few yards. She’s such a happy dog.

It’s been puzzling for a dog on the home front too. After years of neglect, our house is gradually being transformed from a hovel to a home. Alyn, super star painter and decorator, is working his magic; consequently, the hall, stairs and landing are pristine white, the manky, chipped door frames and architraves gleam, and the ‘Brass Mesh’ yellow of the front door, bright and deep, is a joy to behold.

Apart from being highly skilled and a very neat worker, Alyn has an excellent colour sense, and points out how even the yellow candle in the hall ‘speaks’ to the yellow front door.

The results of his work are uplifting. So much so that Human has been galvanised into action, claiming  two beautiful antique glass jars from a freegler, collecting fallen branches from beneath Kings Heath Park’s corkscrew hazel (Corylus avellam Contorta, in case you were wondering), staining them with deep yellow hue, and placing them on the front window sill so that they can ‘speak to’ the door. They’re speaking.

So what has all this to do with Hairy One? Well, first, of course, she had to become aquainted with Alyn, as described in a previous post. Now, once she has sniffed him out each morning, she gives him friendly wags, even, at times, asking for a stroke or two, and isn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable with his being in her house

Keeping her voluminously hairy tail away from every newly painted area sometimes feels like a new career, as I shepherd her into the middle of the hall and through the dead centre of doorways, rush to divert her from sniffing the front door too closely, and recapture her when she manages to nudge open a door and escape into the world of wet skirtings, door frames and architraves.

Currently, the woodwork in the porch is being painted, so zigzagging her through this enclosed space and out of the porch door is a challenging manoeuvre. Fortunately, she is used to being guided round obstacles, and tolerates all the extra steering with equinimity.

In the evenings, she is left downstairs on her own for at least two hours while newly energised Human waxes the pine doors, which should have been done two years ago. Each door needs two layers on both sides, so that’s twenty eight sides. I’m doing two sides a night. Sometimes, Isis barks to let me know that she feels abandoned, and I have to go down to reassure her that I’m still here.

When I’ve finished for the night, I spend a few hours downstairs with her. She usually shuffles herself to my side, so I guess she forgives me.

Every night, I smoothe her whiskers, head and ears with a very soft brush which she loves, clean her eyes – which she does not love, and give her a quick, all-over brushing with a stiff brush to preempt any potential tangles. Every other night she has a thorough groom. She’s not crazy about this, but sits or stands up as required and puts up with it.

Then it’s out into the garden and back in for bedtime treats.

She does very well, for someone so hairy. She’s a very well behaved, cooperative little dog in the house, and so far, there’s not even one Isis hair embedded in the paint work.

She’ll have some more adjusting to do next week when Alyn tackles the kitchen. That’ll be hard for her, as she is used to wandering in at will. She doesn’t like her food stand to be moved into the back room, but needs must.

Her dining space is to be tiled, and the evidence of her earlier wild cavourting up the wall – dog food stains a couple of feet high – erased for ever.

So far, so good.

Thank goodness she’s not begun her spring moult yet.

That would have been a laugh a minute – not!

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.