our walks: (2) Holders Lane

Posted on June 27, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday June 26th 2022

 

June has been a difficult time for us, as there have been so many flickery days: days when sun and shade have alternated minute by minute, causing poor Isis to be fearful and jumpy.

Every morning, when I attempt to harness her, she still acts like a crazy dog, throwing herself around the porch, wagging, spinning, yapping and howling like a wolf. Frequently, just as I’ve succeeded in inserting a dancing paw into the first loop of her harness, she jumps out of it and I have to begin again.

Hers is a frightening performance: she even utters ferocious growls and grabs my hand for a pretend bite. I could forgive anyone watching this performance for thinking that she is out of control and attacking me.

To be sure, it’s not easy to temper her exuberance, and sometimes I have to resort to blowing on her face to calm her, but it seems a shame to dampen her enthusiasm.

She can’t wait to squeeze past the door and onto the path. Although she hesitates at the gate if the sun is exceptionally bright, she can always be persuaded to cross the pavement to her car.

So it’s sad to see her deflated and reluctant to move when we leave the car to begin our walk.

On these chameleon days, we often go to Holders Lane because there are so many little meandering tracks that we can take to avoid the bright sun/deep shadow contrasts which frighten little Hairy so much.

If we park in Moor Green Lane, we can stop close to the gate through which we can access one of her favourite places. This is the first track off to the left, which winds through dense clusters of saplings, old, decaying trees and tall, dense undergrowth. 

 

 

 

 

Here, Isis relaxes because it’s virtually impossible for even the brightest shaft of sunlight to penetrate the layered canopy above her.

Whatever the season, she seems to feel safe and confident here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many little creatures must live in this straggly woodland because Isis soon becomes engrossed with the scents, stopping to snuffle in the ivy, scratch up leaves to uncover promising whiffs, or let her spotty nose hover over the bark of a fallen branch.

When every smell has been investigated, every trail pursued, we emerge onto the first of the playing fields.

More often than not, the field is empty, and Isis likes to explore on her own. She knows where I am, and finds her way back to me when she feels like it. Then she will walk by my side across the field.

Today, unfortunately, a trio of friendly little dogs rush over to greet her, so she hurries off, tail between her legs, in the direction from which we have just come, and takes refuge under a tree. By this time, the pesky little dogs have been called to order by their people, and have lost interest in the unsociable Isis who stands as still as a statue beneath her tree and waits for me to rescue her.

Once she’s on her lead, her tail pops up, and she’s happy to walk with me towards the trickle of stream where she likes to stop for a drink before we approach Canonhill.

 

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.

Posted in a joyful dog, deaf/blind dog, Holders Lane, oh dear, poor Isis, scary shadows, scenting, these dogs!, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like bright light, we don't like bright sun, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

our walks: be careful what you wish for part 2

Posted on June 20, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday June 19th 2022

 

Off we trog back up to the field, stinking of eau de canal. At least, I imagine that we both stink; however, when we pause by the gate and I bend to fix Hairy One’s harness, I find that she doesn’t smell at all. I don’t know whether or not I do, but I shudder every time I think of all the revolting muck in canal’s murky depths.

But it’s no good changing my revolting jeans until I’ve hosed down Isis, so I harry the reluctant animal into the back garden, switch on the water, and proceed to direct jets of water at her.

Unforgivably, in my struggle to control the hose and prevent Isis from escaping out of range, I have completely forgetten to prepare her for the soaking.

She is horrified when the water hits her, and she tunnels under the nearest – and very dense – bush.

I realise that I’m terrifying her, but it’s a long way back to the tap. She will definitely disappear if I withdraw to turn the water down to a trickle, and then I’ll have to hunt her down, remove her from her new hiding place and wrestle her back to base.

I decide the kindest thing to do is to rinse off the remaining shampoo suds as quickly as I can.

As soon as I squelch away to turn off the tap, she slinks off to her little ramp and stands on it looking utterly dejected.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I dash back to the lawn to retreive her towel, wrap her in it and gently pat her all over.

Although she still looks very sorry for herself, at least she’s less bedraggled.

 

 

Once we’re back inside, I dry her until she’s fluffy and warm, then retire for a shower.

By the time I return she’s lying on the day bed, relaxed and sleepy, but still decidedly damp.

Her undercoat is so dense that it takes hours to dry out. It will still be damp at dog’s bedtime, unless I intervene.

Wonder whether she’ll tolerate the hair drier? None of my previous dogs did.

I fetch the drier. This time, I behave more sensibly. I put the drier down on the bed and encourage her to sniff it, before switching it to low heat and a gentle blow. Then I move it backwards and forwards a couple of feet away from her, before directing the warmth onto  her back.

She’d prefer not to be blow dried, but she isn’t afraid. With one hand on the back of her neck, and proceeding very slowly, I manage to dry her thoroughly all over.

 

 

 

Now she looks beautiful and her coat is unbelievably soft. Each time I stroke her head, she rewards me with gentle tail wags.  She’s a very forgiving little dog.

 

 

 

 

 

I wonder how she’ll react when we next walk by the canal. She might refuse to go anywhere near it of course.

Yesterday it rained steadily. As usual, Isis can’t wait to push her way through the front door. She dances merrily to the edge of the pavement and indicates that she wishes to cross the main road and walk down the hill to Broad Lane.

We then walk along Broad Lane, turning off at Jasmine Fields.

Unlike last time,  she is perfectly happy to walk down to the gate. We wander round the edge of the field, Isis weaving her way back and forth to investigate the new smells.

Clearly, rainswept isn’t everyone’s first choice. Apart from us, the field is empty.

Isis is about a hundred feet behind me when I spot the fox. The fox sees me and begins to trot away, then changes her mind, turning back towards me. She is only a few feet away when she dives under a low growing shrub and vanishes into dense undergrowth.

Isis smells the fox at about the same time as I first spot it. She runs towards it, head lifted high, pink nose twitching.

She is thrilled, and follows the path the fox took, trotting in front of me, then whirling back snuffling along the path to the low growing shrub. She doesn’t crawl under the shrub after it, but dances at the edge of the undergrowth, snuffling and prancing.

When she’s had her fill of fox hunting, we continue on our homeward loop, advancing along the pavement in dangerously erratic fashion, plodding when the rain pauses, then lurching forward and twirling when it begins again.

Amazingly, I remain on my feet.

It’s been an exhilarating walk!

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in a joyful dog, a terrified dog, dear little Isis, glorious rain!, Isis at home, Jasmine Fields, oh dear, rain, running, scenting, these dogs!, twirling, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

our walks: (i) be careful what you wish for!

Posted on June 13, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday June 12th 2022

 

I couldn’t have made this up!

Today we’ll go to Jasmine Fields, I decide.  On the way, I’m thinking that there’s nothing much to post about. This week has been pleasant, we’ve had good walks but they’ve been uneventful.

We’ve been to most of our favourite places, but nothing blogworthy has occurred.

Aha! A lightbulb moment. Why not look at each of our walks in turn from Isis’s point of view smell. I’ll keep an even keener eye than usual on what appears to be going on for her.

We park on the kerbside opposite the gate. She’s always reluctant to cross this road and walk down the short drive which leads to the gate. I think this is because several years ago, as we made our way towards the gate, the sun popped out and terrified her.

Today it’s sunny but there’s no sun-in, sun-out fluctuation. Slowly, we move forwards, her tail between her legs.

 

 

Once we’re in the field, her tail pops up again. I remove her harness and off she trots.

 

 

Because I prefer to cross the field and take the first track into the woods, Isis chooses to turn right and sniff for a less well-trodden path.

Yes, she’s sure there’s one she likes just here somewhere.

 

 

Yes, she thought so.

But Human will proably block it off, so she can’t go down it.

Best to nip in quickly, then Human’s sure to let her carry on.

 

 

 

 

Yes, she’s far enough in now; it’s safe to stop and make sure that Human is following – it isn’t that she’s not perfectly capable of walking on her own of course, she’s thinking, but humans can be useful.

Yes, just as she thought, Human is following her. She can feel Human’s leg touching her. Now it’s safe to explore.

And what an interesting track she’s chosen.

 

 

It’s always best for a dog to trust her nose.

Hmm. so many exciting smells.

 

We walk on.

We aren’t allowed to go over the edge of the path to reach the canal. It’s dangerous.

 

 

 

 

 

Nor should we try this way. A dog could slip and hurt herself.

Human went down this next one once, but she didn’t take me.

 

 

Now I’m a brave dog, I enjoy the canal path. I don’t worry about the shadows any more. Well, not much, anyhow. I can smell Human ahead, but I take my time, and sniff my way all along the edges of the path. The smells just get better and better.

 

Hmmmm. This scent is absolutely wonderful. Must have another sniff.

Isis is in her element. She’s come across a must-have scent.

Every time I glance back, she’s sniffing the same plants.

I walk on.

SPLOOOOSH!

Good gracious, that’s a damn big bird. Must be a hell of a hefty heron. Must check it out.

I swing round.

Can’t see anything in the canal.

And the path behind me is deserted. Silly dog! She must have lost my scent and walked back the way we’ve come.

Suddenly, the loud splosh and the absence of Isis connect in my brain.

Eeeeeek!

Oh my dog!

I begin to run.

Soon, in the distance, through the canalside plants, I spot a little white head.

She’s in the canal!

I gallop towards her.

She’s holding up her head, swimming to stay afloat and at the same time frantically scrabbling with her front paws, trying to grab at the bank to drag herself out.

The bank is too high above her: there’s no way she can get out.

I skid to a halt, kneel down and reach for her collar. She moves around and I miss, and miss again. And again. Then she comes closer. I manage to grasp her and begin to haul her upwards.

As soon as she feels me pulling her collar, she begins to claw at the bank.

Together, we manage to heave her onto terra firma.

Once she emerges, of course, she shakes herself vigorously, again and again.

We’re both soaked.

 

 

Well, we certainly have something to post!

 

To be continued ……..

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in crisis, dear little Isis, Isis gets bathed, Isis in danger, Isis in trouble, Isis knows best, Jasmine Fields, lovely leaves, oh dear, poor Isis, scary shadows, scenting, these dogs!, walking my deaf/blind dog, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

oos, ahs, and adventures

Posted on June 6, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday June 5th 2022

 

The passages in italics are what I imagine Isis might say.

 

Since I clipped Isis, she has received even more compliments than ever. It seems as though  everyone who has not come across her before, stops to ‘oo’ and ‘ah’, and ask what she is and where she comes from, while those who know her, smile even more widely and tell us how sweet she looks.

Sometimes, observing one of us doing something unusual, for example, when the wind is blowing my scent away from her and she is struggling to pick it up, I puff in her direction, or when she is about to walk into people she stops an inch from their shins, or they notice her eyes, passers-by ask me about her eyesight.

But most people are astonished if I tell them that she is blind. They say that they’d never have guessed it, watching her move around so confidently.

When I am asked if it’s all right to touch her, I always tell them to offer their hand to her to sniff first, and warn them that she will just walk off, but it’s nothing personal!

Through lovely Isis, I have met a number of very interesting people.

Well, I don’t like it. You’re using me. You just bathe in my glory. It’s very embarrassing for a dog.

Don’t be silly, Isis. It’s nice that people think you’re beautiful.

Huh! That silly woman the other day felt my neck and squealed to her friend, “Oh, feel her Freda – she’s so soft and fluffy.”

And after that someone else asked if I was a puppy.

Puppy, for dog’s sake! And You just stand there and lap up all the gushing.

Isis, I’m just proud of you.

And that man went all soppy and said, “Oo, a little bear. Couldn’t you just hug her!”

Only because he thought that you were so sweet.

He’d better not try.

Of course he won’t.

Wonder if all humans are such know-alls and show-offs.

It’s just that Humans have more experience of the world, Isis. Dogs need guidance.

Yeah, like the other day when  you were lost in Holders Lane woods.     

Well, yes …………………………

I can see the scene now. We are making our way back from Canonhill Park to Holders Woods when I decide to take a short cut. After a while, I look ahead and see that our narrow track converges with another, wider one, I ‘know’ that this is the way back; Isis, though, without hesitation, chooses a sharp right fork instead.

Silly dog. She’ll soon realise she’s going the wrong way. I wait. She’ll turn back soon.

She doesn’t.

She walks steadily on, turning her head round now and again to sniff for me, but showing no inclination to retrace her pawsteps.

Sigh.

I trot after her, catch her up and attach her to the lead. We retrace footsteps, Isis walking obediently beside me.

When we reach the end of the track, I don’t recognise anything. I have no idea where we are.

So I do what I should have done before. Turning Isis round, I release her from the lead and follow her.

She walks back down the track she chose to follow in the first place. Very soon the allotment sheds appear on our left, and we are striding towards the fields, on our way home.

She has a brilliant sense of direction. I have virtually none.

What an arrogant human you are.

Well, that’s a bit harsh.

It isn’t. What about the other day, when we were walking along the twisty little track next to the river?

Oh, yes ……………………………………………….

I remember.

Since the council workers built up crumbling stretches of the river bank, adventurous dogs have made little dirt channels which they use to get into the water. Several times I’ve encouraged Isis to use them, but she’s always resisted.

Today, though, she stops and sniffs at the edge of the least steep channel. I put a hand lightly on either side of her waist. (This is the ‘It’s O.K. It’s safe to do it’ sign.)

Slowly and carefully, she sniffs her way down to the pebbly river bed.

She is nervous about following me into the shallows, and quickly withdraws a straying   paw from the water.

She’s sensible to be cautious: although she ran on the end of a very long rope through dribbles of surf at the edge of the sea when she first came to Wales with me years ago, she’s not walked in a river before, at least not since she was adopted.

We meander along the river bed for a while. Isis is still very careful, but much less nervous. She sniffs around, and even has a quick drink. Then she walks deliberately over to the side of the bed, lifts her head in the direction of the path and sniffs.

“No, you’ll not be able to get up that way,” I tell her. “We’ll walk back the way we came.”

She plants her front paws on the concrete, and explores it with her nose.

 

 

 

 

and, before I have time to catch an image of her ascent,

 

 

 

 

 

she’s at the top.

After further sniffing – presumably to ascertain that she’s back on the path – she turns towards the river.

Presumably she is checking the whereabouts of Human.

 

 

 

 

 

On second thoughts, perhaps she has other things on her mind.

And perhaps I’d better do less presuming.

I scramble up after her, scrabbling for footholds on the embedded rocks, grabbing at grass roots, definitely not displaying any of her elegance and athleticism.

She doesn’t actually say, “I’m not only a pretty face!”

But she might just as well.

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in a very good dog, clever girl, clever Isis, deaf/blind dog, dear little Isis, Holders Lane, Isis knows best, Isis says "No"., scenting, strange behaviour, these dogs!, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

back to the kennels again!

Posted on May 30, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday May 29th 2022

 

On May 13th, only a few days after her last brief sojourn at Hollytrees, I take poor Isis to the kennels again.

I am off to St. Ives with my friend C. The week’s holiday was planned some months ago. I had expected to visit my nephew a few weeks earlier, but this had not been possible, hence Isis returning to the kennels so soon.

Isis has always strode willingly from the car to the gate of Hollytrees and has been perfectly amenable to walking off with one of the staff to the kennel block, but today, for the first time ever, she sniffs the ground suspiciously as soon as we get out of the car, realises where we are, and balks at moving any further.

I feel very mean. It’s far too soon for her to be left again.

Fortunately, Tracey knows that poor Isis had a bad experience walking down the aisle of the block between two rows of caged dogs last time. She knows all about worried dog owners too. She asks Adam to take Isis to her lodgings, and to pick her up and carry her if she refuses to move.

I walk alongside Isis for a few steps, then Adam says, “She’s O.K. now.” And clearly she is. She walks off with Adam without a backward glance.

We have a magical holiday. From the window of our first floor flat there’s a panoramic view of the sea and the harbour, and just below the window is a terrace where we drink wine every evening. We spend an enchanting day at the Eden Project, have a fascinating  few hours at the Tate, and sit in the spectacular Minack theatre which is carved out of the rocks at the edge of the cliffs.

On Tuesday we meet up at Dobbies garden centre with old friend N., whom we’ve not seen for years. He  insists on treating us to a cream tea – the scones are almost the size of small loaves – and insists on buying us each a plant from the garden centre.

The following Friday we meet him again, this time with his parner S. whom neither C. nor I have seen for fifty years. After consuming another cream tea, we all go back to the flat, until their parking ticket runs out.

Although he has never met Isis, N. has heard all about her, and seen her photos. He tells me about the horse rescue/sanctuary of which he is a hands on trust member, and mentions that the Cinnamon Trust (which by pre-arrangement takes and cares for pets who outlive their owners) has its main sanctuary close by. I tell him that I will join as the thought of Isis outliving me is always at the back of my mind.

N. immediately assures me that Isis will come to him if I pop my clogs before she does.

I am very touched by this. I’d not thought of asking him, as he lives so far away, but I know that he would keep his promise. I also know that there is no-one in the world who would care more passionately about her well-being.

This has been some holiday, and, of course, the pleasure of picking up my Isis is still to come!

She is brought into the yard, wagging her tail slowly as she walks. She sniffs out Tracey and shares her wags with her, then, finally, with me.

She is very circumspect in her greeting, though, and clearly quite underwhelmed by our reunion.

But that’s Isis.

There is no mistaking her pleasure at being home, though: when we step into our porch, she wags and wags and wags.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s so good to have her home again.

 

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.

Posted in dear little Isis, Isis at Hollytrees, Isis at home, Isis is sad, Isis says "No"., oh dear, poor Isis, something's not right, these dogs!, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

May 15th and May 22nd

Posted on May 11, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Wednesday May 11th 2022

 

     Isis and Human are taking a blogging break on Sunday May 15th and on Sunday May 22nd

(And no, it’s not because Isis is embarrassed about being seen in her newly clipped furstyle).

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collecting Isis

Posted on May 9, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday May 8th 2022

 

Isis: There’s more about you than about me.

Human: We’re a team Isis.

 

On Wednesday afternoon I take a newly clipped Isis

 

 

 

 

to Hollytrees Animal Rescue Centre and kennels to stay with Ray (whom I’ve known for well over fifty years) T. and A.

They know Isis, and she knows and trusts them all. Usually, I hand over the lead, and off she trots. This time though, there is no free kennel near the door. There are occupied kennels on either side of the aisle, and Isis is very reluctant to walk to her spot near the far end.

My last view of her is of four very resistant pink feet. However much I know that she’ll be very well cared for, her resistance and the little pink feet stay with me, so I feel even sadder than usual to leave her.

The next day I phone Hollytrees and speak to S., who is new since Isis’s last stay. She reassures me that Isis has settled in, is happy to approach her carers, and is eating well.

Relieved, off I go to Bingley, Yorkshire, to visit my nephew Nick.

On Saturday morning, I don’t feel like eating, and decide to have coffee and a snack on the train. The trolley service was excellent on the way up, so when we leave Leeds, I wait, anticipating coffee and a sandwich.

Half an hour passes. Fortunately, I have a bottle of water with me, but having not eaten anything since 7.30 the evening before, I’m beginning to feel very hungry.

Several times I hear the increasingly welcome news,”Ah, they’re getting the trolley ready.”

But it’s a false alarm.

Yes, from time to time, Northern Line persons appear in the little kitchen from which the refreshment trolley usually emerges; but then they go away again, and no refreshments are forthcoming.

I am even more hungry when we reach Birmingham.

I had hoped that I’d be able to grab something edible on New Street Station concourse, but Isis has to be picked up by four, and I don’t pass a food stall as I rush towards the taxi rank.

The roads are very crowded, and I’m anxious that I’ll not make it to the kennels in time; however, I arrive at my house at 3.40, so I steam in, grab a Crunchie bar and a handful of biscuits and shoot off to Wythall.

I arrive in good time, but the day has not finished with me yet.

I park, leaving open a window close to the hedge so that the car will not be too warm for Hairy One. I turn off the engine, but it’s difficult to release the key from the ignition.

On my third attempt, the key snaps off in the lock.

Great.

Never mind, I’m sure the R.A.C. will be able to sort it.

I go into the yard where T. tells me Isis is on the way.

S. leads out a bright, happy looking Isis who walks up very close to T., sniffs her, and wags her tail. She is fond of her carers here. I really didn’t need to worry about her pink-pawed reluctance when she was taken to her kennel on Wednesday.

She soon sniffs me out, and approaches, wagging her tail. It’s great to see her again. I’ve really missed her, even though she’s only been away since Wednesday afternoon.

Before putting Isis in the car, I ask Tracey if I can borrow pliers to get the key out of the lock: she volunteers Adam who, clearly, knows about cars.

It’s not easy to remove the key. Added to this, I haven’t brought the spare key with me.

I’ll phone the RAC.

But my phone isn’t in my pocket. I must have put it down in the kitchen when I grabbed my Crunchie and biscuits.

So I have to ask if I can use the office phone.

“Of course you can,”  I’m told.

I explain the situation to the RAC, who manage to locate me on their records, despite the fact that I’m so stressed that I can’t remember the car’s registration number – and it’s a very easy one, the first I’ve ever been able to recall at the drop of a hat.

Phew.

My relief is short-lived.

I am told that my policy does not cover keys. They will come out but it will cost £160! Alternatively, they can give me the number of a company which will cut new keys on the spot. Or I could phone my car insurance company, the RAC man suggests.

Wonderful!

No I couldn’t. I’m using the Hollytrees office phone, and the kennels should be closing down at five.

When I emerge, A. has worked out a way of firing up the engine, but it keeps cutting out again. It sounds as he’s run down the battery, A. tells me. I explain that it’s a new, heavy duty battery and shouldn’t die so easily.

He wonders if the problem could be the immobiliser. He has tried placing the fob as close as he can to the ignition, but it’s possible that it needs to be touching the ignition in order to disable the immobiliser. It’s worth trying the spare key.

But the spare key, of course, is at home.

I will walk Isis down the lane, we’ll go home on the bus, and I’ll return with the key. It’ll be no problem.

Then T. tells me that she will drive me home if A will stay with Isis and the car. He says that of course he will. He will remove the key so I can use the spare one.

This isn’t fair, I tell them. It will be easy for me to get the bus. They very generously insist. A. tells me that if the car can’t be started, he will give Isis and me a lift back on his way home.

I leave a calm and relaxed Isis in the car, and off we go.

When we return, I can’t believe that the car will start, but just in case it does, I thank T.and A. for their kindness, for the time they have given in order to help me.

I turn the spare key in the lock, and, miraculously, the car springs into action.

Adam is right: the immobiliser won’t be overriden unless it connects with the ignition.

I turn round at the entrance to Baccy Box Lane.

By now there is a group of well- wishers outside Hollytrees, and they all yell and wave as we sail past.

I feel overwhelmed by how kind T. and A. have been.

When we arrive home, Isis has a sardine with her kibble, and I heat a frozen pizza and a large can of baked beans.

Then we both stretch out on the day bed, Isis leaning on my legs, and fall asleep.

 

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.

Posted in crisis, dear little Isis, Isis in trouble, Isis says "No"., oh dear, sleeping, something's not right, these dogs!, what on earth's the matter?, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

a clean bill of health and lots of fluff

Posted on May 3, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Monday May 2nd 2022

 

On April 21st, when we visit the vet, Isis has a full medical check. We wait for a short while at reception, and the vet comes in with a print-out of the results.

As we know, I have been trying to reduce Hairy One’s weight a little, by reducing bedtime treats and meticulously measuring out her kibble. My lack of success is evidenced by the first observation:

‘Weight updated from 16.600(Kg) to 16.850(Kg)’

Yes, well ……

The rest of her health review is positive:

‘Examination – check ears, heart, HR 96, chest clear RR 48, nad abdo, mammary glands, limbs, teeth great. EAGs +++, coat, chip, LNs ok.’

I’m delighted that little Isis is as fit and healthy as she appears to be.

Now for her coat.

The vet, as promised, has made a note of the clippers the veterinary nurse uses for Isis. I will try out the clippers which Bev has lent me, just to make sure that Isis will tolerate being clipped by Human. If she does, I will order the clippers for her.

I am a little apprehensive as I’ve not clipped a dog before, but I take a deep breath, oil the blade, command Isis to stand, and I begin to shear off a shallow layer of her hairy rear. The result is not great, but with a little practice, I am able to ‘feather’ the right angled chunks so that they look a little less like I’ve attacked her with a machete.

I am astonished by her response: she stands as still as a concrete dog, and doesn’t appear to mind at all. She is rewarded by much petting, after which she makes her way rapidly towards her dog bed, pops in and sits up very straight waiting for her post grooming treat. She is rewarded with a sprat.

On my way to order clippers for Isis, I WhatsApp Bev to report how well the trial went. She tells me not to order them yet, but to hang onto hers for a while, so I prepare to attempt a full groom.

The next day, after we’ve returned from our walk, I take a deep breath and begin on the transformation.

Now, I know, of course, that Isis is very hairy. I know also (only too well) that her undercoat is incredibly dense and very loose. Flutes of it float off from her as she walks. But even after two hours of clipping and brushing, the supply of fluff seems undiminished.

Isis continues to tolerate the grooming. It’s only on the fifth consecutive day that she gives two subdued growls when I turn on the clippers. Then she accepts that it’s going to happen anyway, and just stands and bites the bullet again. Dear little creature.

So on and on we go. I’ve never seen so much hair. Even though the grooming takes place on an old double bed sheet in the front room, it somehow migrates. Fluff floats and settles everywhere.

There are hairs in my coffee and on my toast.

Hair congregates on the inside and outside of my clothes.

Rolls of fluff invade the bathroom and dance on the kitchen floor.

Every day it’s clip the next layer, brush out the emerging undercoat, nip off any straggly bits with scissors, tidy up the ends, brush, comb.

When I finish each day’s session, I am aware that if I were to brush her again, the hair would still come out in handfuls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No wonder she doesn’t want a coat in the depths of winter.

Even after three days of hair-attack, when I ask one or two people who know her if they notice anything different about her, they peer at her and say, “No”.

I can’t believe it!

On our walks over the last day or two, though, more strangers than usual have cooed over her.

She feels so soft that I have to restrain myself from stroking and fussing her all the time. Before I go upstairs at night, I always stroke her head and ears, but lately, after the third ‘goodnight dear’ routine, she makes it clear that she just wants me to bog off and leave her alone.

The conversation goes like this:

Human, soppily, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Isis, grimly, “Grrrrrrrrrr!”

 

Before ….

 

 

 

and after

 

 

I still need to do more work on her head and chest, but we’re getting there.

 

 

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.

Posted in a very good dog, a vet visit, dear little Isis, Isis at home, learning to trust, oh dear, patience is a virtue., poor Isis, relationship building | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

an apology

Posted on May 2, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Sunday May 1st 2022

 

Human is sorry, but owing to unforseen circumstances, Sunday’s post will appear a day late!

 

 

 

Human never forsees anythin’.

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

a tough day for Isis

Posted on April 25, 2022 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday April 24th 2022

 

Poor Isis has a tough day on Thursday.

First she is ambushed and plonked in the sink to have her rear end washed, then she is taken to the vet’s where she has a thorough M.O.T., her anal glands are emptied and, worst of all, a kennel cough vaccine is shot up her nostrils.

The cleansing of her rear end is the culmination of a campaign of deep cleansing: here is the shameful confession of neglectful Human.

Two months ago, when she went for her monthly anal gland emptying, the nurse pointed out to me that my dog’s genital area needed cleaning. She suggested shaving off some of Isis’s hair with clippers. To my shame, the shaved area revealed that my dog was, indeed, far from pristine.

Gulp!

Needless to say, I keep an eye on the visible parts of her; however, I’d forgotten about her urethra. When I examine the shaved areas on the insides of her thighs, I am horrified to find a dark yellow stain.

Fortunately, the stain is easily removed with warm water and cotton pads. There is no redness, nor any sign of infection. I guess our wet weather helps, as when she comes in from the rain, she is always dried all over.

Anyway, that’s how I come to be paying so much attention to her private parts before our vet visit on Thursday.

She isn’t impressed.

I must watch myself in case I make these examinations part of a compulsive – obsessive routine.

This appointment is with vet and practice partner Christian Hughes as Hairy One needs a health check and a kennel cough vaccination. Watching him work with Isis, I can see how the ethos of this excellent practice has been formed. Isis, too, is obviously impressed, and when we enter the consulting room, seagues immediately into angelic mode.

When I attempt to examine her ears, she flattens them so tightly to her head that it’s almost impossible to find the openings. When I’ve managed to lift an ear flap, and am peering inside an ear, she jerks her head away and turns her back on me, so that the procedure becomes an acrobatic challenge.

While Christian examines her ears she doesn’t even twitch.

Hmph!

She is just as composed when he holds her mouth open and examines all of her teeth, listens to her heart, completes all the other checks, and empties her anal glands.

Little creep.

But we are both taken by surprise when she vigorously resists the kennel cough vaccine, flinging her head around to avoid the touch of the syringe. In the end, she has to be positioned between my knees, her rump under the chair on which I’m sitting. While I grip her head firmly with both hands, vet places one hand firmly on the top of her head and administers the vaccine with the other.

“That was very frightening for her,” he says, “Not fair when she can’t see what’s happening.”

He tells me that there is an injectable version, and advises me that when she needs another dose, I should contact the practice a month beforehand so that the alternative vaccine can be ordered.

Poor Isis.

Like the veterinary nurse, he thinks it would be a good thing for me to clip Isis, and this time I remember to ask the make of the clippers the practice uses. Bev has lent me her clippers so I can check that Isis will tolerate my clipping attempts. Tomorrow I will have a go!

Another task I have is to reduce Someone’s food intake. She’s not much overweight, but we agree that fifteen kilos is an ideal weight, not going on for seventeen!

By the time we return home, poor Isis is exhausted. She just wants to sleep!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

Posted in a terrified dog, a very good dog, a vet visit, dear little Isis, Isis gets bathed, Isis says "No"., learning to trust, off to the vet, oh dear, poor Isis | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment