A post should appear every Sunday

Sunday February 24th 2024

Well, it’s been a hectic week for a dog.

On Wednesday we dash off early to see Lee at Dogma (previously Chester’s corner) in Kings Norton. I know that he has his diet food delivery on Tuesdays, and am anxious to get a giant bag of the food which Isis likes best: Angus Beef with sweet potato and carrot. This variety disappears from the stock more quickly that the others.

Isis and I park up, and go into the shop where Lee is advising another customer. He always gives his customers as much time as they need to make decisions. I stand guard over the Angus Beef, as there are only two bags left, and at the same time, cast an eye at the harnesses.

The harness I last bought Isis is useless: a very bad choice. I can only think that I was seduced by the colour, which is scarlet, and looks very fetching against her white hair.

On the downside, it is flimsy, has to be put on over both her front feet at the same time –  which is a messy job in wet, muddy (i.e. British) weather; it fastens across her back with broad velcro straps which quickly become clogged with hair, and when she is feeling recalcitrant, she can go into reverse, and pull her naughty, fluffy head out of it in two seconds. Then of course, Human has to undo it and replace it via Hairy’s by then sodden, hairy feet.

It can only be adjusted by pulling the velcro strap further over its companion, leaving the end of the strap flapping over her back. Most importantly, I am convinced that if I do an emergency stop, it’ll break apart.

We seek Lee’s advice, and he fetches two smart, black, Anchor harnesses, one of which is designed for both travelling in the car, and walking. The latter sounds ideal.

“Shall we try it on, then?,” asks Lee. I reply that I think we’d better not, best try it on Isis, lest passers-by conclude that we are engaged in some master-slave ritual. Always the smart arse, I can’t help it, but Lee has a ready sense of humour and we both have a good snigger.

Isis stands patiently on the shop floor, and Lee kneels beside her. It’s always difficult to work out how to adjust a stiff, new dog harness, and I watch as Lee attempts to find the correct sequence of under the left leg, over the head, and then manages to locate the clip which is buried deep in her hair. He apologises to her when he has to go back to the beginning in order to tighten up the strap. Isis knows Lee, and is quite comfortable with all this adjusting and readjusting.

I am delighted with the purchases, and it’s been good to see Lee again. He heaves the bag of food into the boot, and we leave for our walk.

Then it’s off to the vet’s for poor Isis’s routine anal gland emptying.

We are a few minutes early, so I have time to weigh her. As always, she stands still while I  position her, tuck in her tail, and read her weight. She’s exactly fifteen kilos.

Perfect.

While we sit in the waiting area, she shudders and trembles. The last time we came, she had her nails clipped too; although the vet was very careful and very gentle, she remembers the time before when her quick was nipped, so I expect resistance.

However, it’s Poppy, her favourite veterinary nurse. She offers Isis her hand, and allows her to have a good sniff, after which Isis relaxes. True, she tries a handstand or two, but there’s not a growl to be heard.

The rest of the week passes quietly. Alyn begins work on the kitchen, sorting all the electrics, then screwing straps into the wall ready for boxing in the unsightly piping. Each evening, I sand part of the upstairs landing, using his professional sander which sucks all the dust into a large filtered tank, so it’s not even necessary to wear a mask.

The work is very noisy, but this, of course, doesn’t upset Isis. Although her ears flicker, as she registers the resounding vibrations, she cannot hear a thing. My poor border collies would have been beside themselves, but she is completely unperturbed.

In this way, we sail through life until Friday. We have the house to ourselves from Thursday until Tuesday, and Alyn leaves his set of our keys here for the weekend. I put them away carefully in a drawer.

Which shouldn’t be a problem …………

Human is irritable because she gets up very late. In an attempt to bring herself round, she has a shower. She will take Isis out, then drive to Wicke’s for varnish, new brushes, wax and sanding triangles for the palm sander.

But she can’t find her wallet. As she looks in the places where the wallet is kept, she becomes more and more exasperated. Without the wallet, she can’t get the stuff she needs. After about thirty minutes, she spots it where it has no right to be – lying in the shadows, on the floor by the day bed.

Never mind, there’s still plenty of time for a walk before the D.I.Y. shopping spree.

Isis and Human step out of the front door.

As soon as it clicks shut, Human realises with  horror that she took off the string of keys which she always keeps hanging round her neck – for reasons unquestioned by those who know her well – before her shower, and forgot to pick them up afterwards.

It doesn’t take long to assess the situation. Isis and Human are trapped between the front door and the porch door. The keys to which are upstairs.

Friend Yasmin has a set, but she will not be back from work for an hour or more. Nigel opposite has keys but he has shut up shop and, I assume, set off for home.

Oh dear.

To make matters worse, Isis, who is only a locked door away from her walk, sets up a bark to remind me, I assume, that all I have to do is to open it.

Grrrrrrrrrr.

Then, thanks be to Dog, I catch sight of Nigel walking along the opposite pavement to the paper shop. I open the window and yell his name as loudly as I can.

I keep yelling, but he doesn’t hear me. He disappears into the paper shop.

Eeeeeek! So near and yet so far.

Then a young guy passes the gate. I bang on the glass of the porch door as though I’m trying to smash my way through it, and shriek, “Help! Help!”

He hears me and comes to the window. I describe Nigel, explain that he has keys and is in the paper shop. It takes several attempts to communicate the message, as Isis, not pleased that someone is loitering on her property, barks loudly each time I open my mouth.

The young man looks at me as though I am completely doolally, but goes to alert Nigel to our predicament.

Nigel, always the gentleman, unlocks his shop, locks it again, and brings over the keys.

He is always helpful, and watches out for his near neighbours.

But I’m sure he’d not choose a neighbour like me.

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.