a difficult week

Posted on September 19, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday September 19th 2021

 

Isis’s skin has been much better this week, and the scratching much reduced. Her skin still looks pinker than normal though, is hot to the touch, and she still scratches several times a day. She also continues to nibble and lick her front legs. This has always been a stress response. Clearly, she is not happy with herself.

She’s not had to wear her plastic collar this week, but tonight I put it on her to prevent her from worrying her legs.

She falls asleep almost immediately. She doesn’t wake up even when I place tonight’s tablet, wrapped in a tiny bit of cheese, literally under her nose. We won’t panic though: she’s just found it!

O., her vet said that he thought she would need to continue with the medication after this first course is completed. I’ll ring the practice to discuss the situation tomorrow. Bev told me on Friday that the Apoquil worked well for Nancy, who has had summer allergies for years. Let’s hope that another course will sort Isis out.

This week has been a difficult one for Isis. In addition to her dermatitis, she’s had to put up with the capricious behaviour of the weather. I look at the forecast each day and try to take Hairy One out during a settled period. But even though we leave the house under an Isis-friendly still, grey sky, within minutes of our arrival, it seems, the clouds part and there’s a blast of bright sunlight.

This terrifies poor Isis. Her cheerfully elevated tail disappears between her legs, her ears flatten and she begins to slink off towards the car park.

On top of all this, the roofers are in her garden for two days so her territory doesn’t smell as it should. Returning from light traumas in the park to invasive smells at home is very unsettling for a dog.

Usually, as soon as I take off her harness and lead, she is confident that she’s not going to be bathed and she trots happily into the hall; but this week she stays in the porch with me while I change my shoes, and won’t enter the house until I do.

Another nerve wracking phenomenon is the puppy epidemic. No sooner does one begin to relax and enjoy the scents, than some interfering four-month-old fluffy little git rushes up to leap, yap and snuffle around one’s paws.

On Friday, Rufus and Nancy rush up to greet us. As always, Rufus desires immediate full frontal muzzle canoodles with Isis, while Nancy elects to check out what Human may have to offer in the way of treats.

Although the initial greeting startles her, Isis is obviously pleased to be with her friends. She always seems more relaxed and confident in their company.

When we walk back down to the park through the orchard, Isis lingers to investigate all the new smells. Meanwhile, Bev, Rufus and Nancy, who are about a hundred yards ahead are making the acquaintance of a stranger and his human.

When they draw level with us, the dog, who is lively and inquisitive, trots up to sniff Isis. He is a sweet dog and is quite gentle around her. She, of course, cringes and backs towards the hedge. He is a rescue dog from Romania, his person tells me, and has been with her for over two years.

Suddenly, he bursts into a exubriant gallop, races past us back down to Rufus and Nancy, turns on a pinpoint, zips back up past Isis, and back down again. He does this three or four times. It’s a daily routine, his person tells me, apparently just for the pleasure of it. It’s lovely to watch.

But every time he thunders past Isis, she retreats further and further into the hedge.

Rufus looks up, realises that she is afraid and runs back up the slope to her. He nuzzles her face very, very gently and she slowly emerges.

(The image below isn’t a new one. I’ve posted it before. And no, Rufus doesn’t wear his mudcoat at this time of year.

There are two reasons for using it: 1. I love the look of concern on Rufus’s face, and 2. I have to get a new camera card before I can upload any more images.)

 

 

 

Don’t worry Isis. I’m here.

 

 

 

 

It’s good to have friends at times like these!

 

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.

 

 

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we’re coming round

Posted on September 12, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday September 12th 2021

 

I ring Fivelands as soon as the practice opens on Friday, and when I explain poor Isis’s predicament, we are offered an appointment at 2.30 that afternoon.

So off we go, poor Isis in her Elizabethan collar.

For the first time since ‘lockdown’ officially ended, I am allowed to accompany Isis to the consulting room. As we are relatively new clients, I think that we might not see the same vet this time, but yes, here is the charming O.

On her first visit, he had given her a steroid injection to bring down the inflammation, but had warned me that it was likely that she would require more long term treatment.

O. is now ninety-nine point nine per cent certain that the dermatitis is caused by an allergy. He goes over the treatment options again, and we discuss them. We decide on a relatively new, non-steroid medication, Apoquel.

She has to have half a tablet twice a day for seven days, then half a tablet once a day until the course is finished.

We will discuss her progress over the phone a couple of days before the tablets are finished. If she needs a repeat prescription, which O. thinks is likely, I can collect it.

He advises that she wears the collar for another three days.

I note her perfect behaviour throughout the examination. She stands statue-still while O. parts her hair and examines different bits of her. Not even the faintest growl passes her lips.

I am, of course, very pleased that she behaves so beautifully at the vet’s. At the same time, it’s a bit galling, since one of my fingers is still decorated with a small tooth mark and a large bruise, inflicted by we know whom.

And all I did was attempt to examine a little scab on her neck.

Huh!

I hasten to add that such uncouth behaviour on her part is never tolerated. I immediately express my disapproval in the usual way, with smats* and a very loud growl in her right ear. Then, of course, I resume my examination.

* ‘Smats’ are very firm pats – at least three in a row with a gap between each. They are delivered with fearsome ‘growls’ and ‘snaps’ and, of course, without cuddles and strokes.

And a canine is not rewarded afterwards, however long she has to put up with human riffling through her fur.

She always makes me laugh when something difficult, like having her whiskers combed, is completed. She waits until I signal ‘finished’ then leaps onto the floor and dives into her dog bed where she sits, ramrod straight, awaiting her reward.

Gradually – as we know, I’m a bit slow – I realise that Isis never sits down when she visits the vet. I wonder whether she feels that this being a formal occasion, a dog is required to stand.

Aha!

The next time I need to groom her underside, or other delicate parts, I make her stand. When I did this in the past, she would complain, growling fiercely. But now she accepts that it’s going to happen and stands until we’re finished.

Last year when she first had severe dermatitis, she obviously felt very unwell. All she wanted was to do was sleep near to me.

This time, I check with the vet that it is O.K. to take her for walks. Definitely, he opines.

Isis doesn’t concur.

Is it too warm out? We’ll wait until evening and walk then.

No we won’t.

She wants to stay in the house and sleep, thank you. And she’d appreciate company too.

Sigh.

After three days, she becomes more lively. On the fourth evening, I’m at the front of the house when I hear loud ‘Ooffs’ and clonks coming from the back room. She is jumping around in her bed, thrashing poor snake to within an inch of his life.

Right, Isis. Time to walk again I think.

The next day she can’t wait to get out of the front door, even though it’s sunny.

Over the next few days, we go to all of her favourite places.

Aware that a lot of interesting dog-stuff has been going on while she has been in her sick bed, she sniffs and snuffles like an animated hoover.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And she pees on her territory as if there’s no tomorrow.

 

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 naughty dog, a vet visit, crisis, Isis at home, oh dear, poor Isis, these dogs!, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch ……scritch ad infinitum

Posted on September 6, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday September 5th 2021

 

Oh dear. What a week. Poor Isis.

The clouds begin to gather last weekend. It’s a bank holiday weekend.

Of course.

It would be.

Isis is miserable and very irritable. She begins dive bombing her rear end and tearing little clumps of hair out of her tail. Each attack is accompanied by an angry sound track: ‘Nyaff-nyaff-grrrr-yank!’

By Monday the nyaff-nyaff-grrrr-yanks have escalated to such a degree that we are both well strung out.

This is all very puzzling. The vet found poor Hairy One’s anal glands so full last time we saw him that we decided to revert to having them emptied once a month as we used to, instead of every six weeks. Her next appointment though, isn’t due for well over a week.

So as soon as her veterinary practice reopens on Tuesday morning, I’m on the phone asking for an appointment. There is none available that day, and I am advised to ring at eight the next morning to request a same day appointment.

When I ring, we are told that Isis can be seen at two-thirty.

Yes,  the nurse tells me, the glands were very full.

For a while after we return home, Isis is a happier dog. But the next day she begins scratching herself. On Thursday evening, I administer her anti- flea (and anti every other known parasite, according to the blurb) medication.

I am surprised that she continues to scratch on Friday, but assume the medication takes a while to work.

I groom her regularly, of course, since she’s so hairy, and there’s never been any sign of  infestation – although, of course, some mites are invisible to the naked eye.

For weeks now, of course, grasses have been shedding their seeds so it’s been necessary to de-seed Isis every day. She doesn’t like it if I just pick out the seeds with my fingers, and is apt to utter a snappy ‘nyaff!’.

So a degree of deception is called for here. Having her head, ears, face and whiskers gently stroked with a very soft baby brush, is a different matter altogether. She interprets this as petting. She squirms sensuously and wags her tail. As long as I’m very careful, she doesn’t appear to register the sneaky seed picking.

Despite all this, I have only spotted two tiny scabs.

Last night and during the early hours, there are several muffled grumbles from downstairs. She’s probably been scratching on and off all night; this morning, her skin  very pink indeed.

I need to examine her more closely, so I give her a bath. I am horrified to find that there are now five or six scratched and very inflamed patches of skin.

It looks like a return of the severe dermatitis she had in August/September last year.

(She has attacked herself twice over the last twenty minutes, so now she’s wearing her Elizabethan collar).

Poor Isis.

 

 

 

 

She already has an appointment for her booster next Friday, but the dermatitis needs attention before then. I’ll ring the practice at eight tomorrow morning.

Again!

Oh Dog! The vet’s receptionist will think I have Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy!

 

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 vet visit, crisis, Isis at home, Isis gets bathed, Isis is sad, oh dear, poor Isis, self-damaging, self-harming, something's not right, strange behaviour, these dogs!, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

how could you, Isis?

Posted on August 29, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday August 29th 2021

 

You have to smile: On Friday, Y and her dog Blitzi visit for a coffee in the garden. Although he is strong and heavier than Isis, and has in the past slept with her on a shared rug, he is very wary of her. On her own territory, she bullies him mercilessly. He trots hastily past her doorway. When she picks up his scent, she jumps into the hall, sniffing and twirling menacingly. Blitzi can’t wait to escape into the garden.

Now Isis doesn’t like going into the garden in the dark, so, as usual, that night I accompany her to the edge of the grass for her late night pee and then nip back into the kitchen. Generally she follows me  very promptly.

This time minutes go by with no sign of Isis. That’s very strange. What on earth is she doing? Perhaps she’s found a creature in the garden. Perhaps someone’s come into the garden and stolen her.

I step onto the grass and peer round the teasles. There she is walking very slowly but purposefully, nose to the ground. She’s following Blitzi’s scent, sniffing everywhere he has been.

Finally, after remarking her territory, she returns to the house and dances for a while in her dog bed.

This morning, on a dirt track in Holders Woods we come across what looks like a dry, dead leaf folded in on itself along its length.

I pick it up to examine it: it’s a chrysalis. It looks like one cast off by a hawk moth, although I’ve not seen a hawk moth or caterpillar around Birmingham. Hmmmm.

 

It’s Wednesday and it’s dull with a light breeze: just as Isis likes it.

She’s chirpy today and, when released from her harness, leaps and dances in the long grass. I let her wander wherever she wants to go, and follow close behind, enjoying the quietness and the grassy fragrance of the wildflower meadow.

She takes us on a very peasant walk: she crosses the little stream; follows zig-zagging scent trails over the sloping meadow which butts up to the beech wood; and picks up the path  leading to the park-keeper’s lodge.

Here, we have our only altercation of the day. The lodge is close to Yew Tree Lane where we often leave the car.

Isis decides that it’s time to go home and begins to make her way towards the lodge. Although I explain very carefully that the car isn’t at this end of the park today, she persists in heading off towards Yew Tree Lane.

She’s certain that I’m lying, and every time I turn her round to face the opposite direction, she turns back.

After arguing with her for about ten minutes, I resort to putting her in her harness, so that I can drag her forward, inch by inch, without strangling her. Every now and then I ruffle the hair around the base of her tail, pretending to be a large dog sniffing her bottom. This usually makes her move forward. It does seem to work. The last resort is to bend over her menacingly and snap, ‘COME!’ loudly into her right ear.

I always take a surruptitious look around before I begin to harrass her, just in case some vigilant member of the public accosts me and accuses me of dog abuse. I can just imagine the scene.

Member of the public: ‘That’s no way to treat an innocent little animal!’

Me: ‘Ah, but you see, she’s blind and deaf so she thinks ………

Member of the public: Sharp intake of breath. Look of outraged horror spreads across his/her face:

‘My god, how could you be so heartless  – you should be ashamed of yourself!’

Fortunately, no-one is around today.

At last we are walking back down through the avenue of pine trees. Isis is free of her harness, her tail is back up, and she’s sniffing around the blackberry bushes apparently without a care in the world.

Down we go, into the home meadow. Isis knows this meadow like the back of her paw, and is relaxed enough on this sunless day to be a hundred yards or so away from me.

She’s found something extremely good. She turns round and round, waving her tail and sniffing the ground. She’s riveted.

So riveted, in fact, that she appears to be endeavouring to stand on her head!

Round and round she goes, head down to the ground by the looks of it. Ah, bless her, I bet she’s found some fox poo.

I smile to myself smugly. I never have to worry about such things because Isis has never rolled. Either she didn’t learn because of being chained up as a puppy, or she daren’t roll because she would be too vulnerable to predators.

Now, I don’t particularly want to go through the palaver which other dogs’ humans do, trying to manoeuvre their stinky pets into the car without smearing indescribably revolting goo all over the interior. In fact, I feel quite smug that I’ll never have the problem.

At the same time, I often wish that little Isis could learn to roll, to enjoy that utterly relaxed feeling of lying on her back with her feet in the air.

Oh well, never mind.

Here she is, coming towards me now, looking pleased with herself.

I smile.

Dear little dog.

Oh. What’s that wide band of brown half way across her lovely white neck?

I can’t believe how she managed it.  She definitely didn’t roll.

I hope I’m wrong.

When she reaches me, I give a cautious sniff.

Erk!

I’m not wrong.

 

 

What we waitin’ for?

 

 

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 very naughty dog, Highbury Park, Holders Lane Woods, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, Isis says "No"., oh dear, park dogs, park people, scenting, strange behaviour, these dogs!, twirling, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like the dark, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Posted on August 27, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Saturday August 27th 2021

 

T O D A Y

I S

I S I S ‘S

 G  O  T  C  H  A        D A Y

 

 

 

HAPPY GOTCHA DAY BEAUTIFUL GIRL X

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

you’re a fat girl!

Posted on August 23, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday August 22nd 2021

 

you have to smile: J. has mobility problems now and can no longer come with us to Highbury on Sundays. Instead, Isis and I visit him. He has a very nice flat in a sheltered housing complex.

Today, we are sitting on J.’s patio, when, to our astonishment, someone unlocks his front  door from the outside and lets themselves into the flat. A warm, friendly voice calls out, ‘I’m the carer’, and a cheerful  lady in uniform steps into the room and walks over to where we are sitting.

‘I’m your carer!’ the cheerful lady says again, smiling. Jim and I look at each other, speechless.

I am the first to recover. Naturally, I assume that the C.L. (cheerful lady) is addressing J.

The following conversation ensues:

C.L.  ‘I’m your carer.’

me:  ‘No, you’re not. Jim doesn’t have a carer.’

The C.L. checks the list which she has in her hand.

C.L.: ‘Oh, are you Pat?’

me:  ‘Yes.’

C.L. ‘Oh, hello Pat, I’m your carer.’

me: ‘Er, no you’re not – I’m just visiting.’

The cheerful lady checks the list again. ‘Oh’, she says, looking very confused, ‘Isn’t this Flat 5?’

‘No,’ Jim and I tell her, this is Flat 4!’

The lady’s hand flies to her mouth, and she begins to apologise profusely. I think we manage to convince her that we find it hilarious, and there really isn’t a problem.

At this point, I notice that Isis’s nose is twitching. She has picked up the stranger’s scent. Oh dear.

Fortunately, the intruder leaves before Isis has the chance to chase her off with a fearsome volley of barks!

One day I come across this feather in Holders Woods’ fields and decide to take it in macro. I intend to make some abstract drawings and want to see how much detail I can get of the effect of the water drops on the pattern of the feather.

First, I have to capture naughty Isis as I know she will head off in the direction of the car as soon as she senses that I’m distracted.

It’s not easy to take a photo with the hairy pest tugging vigorously on the other end of the lead, but it’s worth the effort.

 

 

 

 

 

 

No wonder Isis pulls such a punch: when we visited the vet’s last week, he told me she weighed 17.25 kilos.

‘Good grief!’ I gasped in dismay, she’s really put on weight.’

‘No, she’s lost a little,’ replies the vet. ‘When she came a few weeks ago, she weighed 17.75.’

‘What!’

Real horror now. My svelte little Isis weighing in at close on 18 kilos! That’s virtually twice the weight she was when I had her.

Of course, she needed to put on weight then, and she did, eventually reaching and remaining at 14.80 – 15.25.

I recall that the veterinary nurse did tell me Isis’s weight at our previous visit, but I was distracted and forgot to listen. I realised this as I drove away, but didn’t like to go back to ask. I don’t feel that the explanation ‘I forgot to listen,’ is cute when one’s past the age of seven.

Anyway, having installed Isis in her rear seat, and myself in the driving seat, I turn round to face her.

‘YOU ARE A  FAT  GIRL,’ I tell her firmly but quietly (the windows are open and I don’t want anyone to overhear this sensitive information.)

She ignores me and settles down for the journey.

How could I have allowed my Isis to become overweight? I’ve never had an overweight animal before.

True, I have struggled more and more with lifting her up for her bath. It feels like hauling a hundredweight of coal slack.  But then, she’s not bathed very often, so I thought it was because I was getting older and weaker.

When we get home I size up my fat dog. I must admit that I expected her to look slim and athletic once she’d finished moulting.

She doesn’t.

Then I was sure that she’d be sylphlike when I’d trimmed her.

She isn’t.

I try to persuade myself that I’m imagining things.

On Thursday, I tell Bev the sad saga. She sniggers knowingly.

‘Did you notice that she was putting on weight?’, I ask.

‘At first I thought it was just her hair’, admits Bev. ‘But when she looked the same size after she’d been trimmed  ………………..’

I must take action.

I can’t believe that I’ve been over-feeding Isis, but I know she’s not pregnant, and she appears to be very healthy, so I must be guilty.

‘But I don’t give her much’, I whine, responding like all owners of overweight animals do.

A review of her intake is not difficult. I always weigh her food, a habit, I suppose from when she was such a thin, hungry little creature and needed to put on weight.

Now for an action plan.

A friend who knew me very well often told me that I tend to go to extremes. Remembering this, I decide not to stop feeding Isis until she’s next weighed in a month’s time.*

Instead, I review her food and treats:

75 grammes of Royal Canin Gastrointestinal dry food for breakfast,

75 grammes of Royal Canin Gastrointestinal dry food for tea, plus one sardine or a few forkfuls of Chappie

two tiny little mini treats (smaller than my small fingernail) when we return from her walk

four small gravy bones, one Markie (smallest size) at bedtime.

Although this doesn’t seem a lot, obviously it’s more than she needs.

I  am now feeding her only 60 grammes of Royal Canin for each meal, and reducing the extra fish or meat added at teatime. I cut out one of the bedtime gravy bones, substituting a mini treat.

Poor Isis can’t believe that Human is deliberately starving her, and returns to her bowl after eating to check that it really is empty.

Human, of course, feels guilty and worries about her dog being hungry.

Such is the fate of a dog’s human.

 

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.

* For those who do not know me very well, and feel they must call the RSPCA, this sentence was written in jest!

Posted in a vet visit, Holders Lane Woods, Isis at home, Isis is no angel, oh dear, poor Isis, scenting, something's not right, these dogs!, walking my deaf/blind dog, walking with Rufus and Nancy, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

an itchy dog

Posted on August 16, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday August 15th 2021

 

you have to smile

Isis is almost invariably quiet and relaxed when she travels. As soon as she jumps into the car, she settles on the back seat (with her safety harness on, of course) and, sensibly, she’ll not stand up while we’re moving.

Imagine my surprise one day this week when she begins wagging her tail and leaping up and down.

I glance behind me. She’s very animated. What on earth’s going on?

I know that it’s begun to rain, but surely she can’t tell that from inside the car?

Ah, but she can. The little sun roof is open.

 

One day

on one of our walks , we come across this, lying like a gem on the canal path.

 

 

 

 

A jay’s feather, I think.

 

It’s Tuesday. We’ve only been back from our walk for thirty minutes, but Isis is still keen to come with me wherever it is I’m going, and is excited to have her harness put on again. (I don’t tell her we’re off to the vet’s.)

Ever since I left her at the kennels for ten days, she has nibbled her right leg. Then she begins on her left foot.

The nibbling is a stress reaction. What’s  she worried about? Are her anal glands bothering her? I have been doing some major sorting and furniture moving:  is this making her feel insecure? Is she not getting enough attention?

Who knows?

About ten days ago I notice that the bald patches on her leg and foot are healing. That’s a relief.

The relief is short lived, however. She begins scratching herself every now and again. Hmmm.

She waits until the vets have closed their doors on Saturday, then she begins in earnest.

My relaxed Kindle reading  is rudely interrupted. Jolt. Jolt. Jolt. I’m bounced up and down by Isis vigorously scratching various areas of her anatomy.

For two evenings, until, thankfully, she falls asleep, it’s scritch, scritch, scritch from her and prod, prod, poke from me.

I know she doesn’t have fleas. She’s treated regularly against any marauding mini organism which could venture onto her.

Time and again, I part her hair and inspect her skin: nothing to be seen.

After a couple of days, though, the areas she’s scratched – a pawpit, the back her neck and her belly, are looking very pink. Actually, I realise, even her ears are looking flushed.

On Sunday I complete the haircut I began ten days ago. This should make her feel more comfortable.

Then I bathe her with a calming shampoo followed by numerous rinses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She doesn’t enjoy it, naturally, but she’s very good.

When I ring the vet on Monday, I am told that there are no appointments immediately available, but if I ring at eight on Tuesday morning and ask for a ‘same day’ consultation they will try to fit Isis in. In the meantime, I need to ask her previous two vet practices to forward her medical records.

Our appointment is at five. Typically, once the appointment is made, Isis stops scratching. Oh dear. The vet will wonder what we’re there for.

Fivelands has a very strict Covid routine, which is good. I phone to announce our arrival, then sit on a bench in the shade with Isis at my feet, and wait.

A cheerful young black labrador is being examined in a corner by the hedge; the silent occupant of a cat carrier arrives, held aloft, followed by a bouncy black and white spotted patient who strains eagerly on his lead.

The vet and nurse arrive, and I explain the problem. Isis stands quietly as the vet parts her hair. Yes, he can see that her skin is very pink. He tells me about treatment options, and we agree that at this stage he’ll give her a short term steroid injection to calm the inflammation and we’ll monitor her from there.

She has not seen a vet here before, as our previous three visits have been for anal gland emptying, and the veterinary nurses have dealt with her. She always returns calm and collected and they always tell me what a good girl she’s been

The vet takes her lead. She is not keen to accompany him into the building and pulls away as they walk. But although she seems anxious, she doesn’t refuse to go in.

They bring her back after about twenty minutes. They have given her the injection, sorted her anal glands and weighed her.

I am horrified to hear that she now weighs 16.75 kilos. No wonder I struggle to lift her. But the vet tells me that she has lost some weight –  last time she came, about a month ago, she was 17.25!

And how did she behave? “She’s very good,” the vet tells me, “She has a very kind nature.”

Aw.

When I look back to her early vet visits, when she leapt and twirled in the waiting room and had to be muzzled for her examinations, I still can’t quite believe the transformation.

Back in the car, I fuss her and tell her what a good dog she is.

 

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, Jasmine Fields, learning to trust, off to the vet, oh dear, poor Isis, rain, self-harming, something's not right, these dogs!, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Isis is overcome

Posted on August 8, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday August 8th 2021

 

A few weeks ago,  it was extremely hot – hotter than it’s ever been since Isis came to England.

One day, we get to Highbury just before ten – well before the hottest part of the day.

We meet Y. and Blitzi. Apparently, Blitzi has been swimming in the big pond. Now he’s leaping up and down demanding that the ball be thrown for him, then shooting off at his usual speed. Y thinks it’s too hot for him, but he doesn’t. She’s about to take him home.

Each time I let Isis off, she looks dejected and tries to sneak back to the car park.

Eventually, having retrieved Hairy One for the fourth time, I decide that we’ll have to return home. But before we do, since I’ve not seen Y. for weeks, it’ll be good to have a quick catch up. We seat ourselves on a couple of fallen branches in the shade of a large tree.

Even Blitzi is tired now, and lies down to relax in the cool grass next to his human.

Isis isn’t keen to lie down. Reluctantly, she sits.

But she’s restless, and soon she’s showing signs of distress. We drive home with all the windows and the sun roof open, and hastily retreat indoors.

Isis jumps onto the day bed. Now she’s breathing very quickly and her flanks are heaving. I fan her with my hands. This seems to bring her some relief, but she can’t settle. She sits up, then lies in a Trafalgar Square Lions pose, then she’s up again, down again, up again.

I soak a tea towel in cool water, wring it out and spread it over her. (I don’t tell her it has a large ginger cat on it.)

Within minutes, she lies on her side, relaxes, stretches out her legs and falls asleep.

She sleeps well past her teatime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goodness me! Poor Isis.

I stay downstairs with her that night, and monitor her body heat.

I’m shocked. I had been warned before I adopted her that Portuguese and Spanish dogs, used to a warm climate, need to be protected from the cold when they are rehomed in cooler climates, but it hadn’t occurred to me that a Portuguese dog wouldn’t cope with the heat.

But, for a brief period, it is record breakingly hot here. For three or four days, we stay inside, and I cool her with the wet tea towel when necessary.

After this, until the temperature drops, we only venture out very early in the morning.

Isis doesn’t have a cool mat, as she’s not had a problem with heat before, even on the midsummer beaches in Wales. Several people I know have bought cool beds for their dogs, and the dogs have happily used them.

Not every dog though.

Bev orders one for Rufus, whose coat is very thick and curly. He often becomes uncomfortable in the heat. He refuses to lie on it.

Bev moves it all over the garden, placing it in numerous temptingly cool, shady places, but the ungrateful Rufus just looks pained and moves somewhere else.

By the time she’s finished trying to persuade him to use it, I think she’s ready to stretch out on it herself.

I’m pretty sure Isis won’t accept a cool mat, but am so concerned about her becoming overheated, I order one for her anyway.

When the mat arrives, Isis is snoozing in the front room, so I shake it out and spread it on the day bed to let it settle. Then I join her – not for a snooze, but to drink my coffee.

Later on,  I go upstairs and she makes her way to the back room.

I give her time to settle, then creep surreptitiously to the other end of the room to observe what’s happening.

‘She won’t like it,’ I tell myself.

I’m right.

She doesn’t.

 

 

 

 

Eew – what’s this?

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll just keep as far away from it as I can. Eek! Now it’s touching my paw …….

 

 

 

 

This feels safer. If it attacks I’ll just bite it.

 

 

 

She continues to avoid her lovely, new cool mat.

I remove the mat, but a few days later, it’s quite hot again; also I’m replacing some floorboards in the front room, so have rolled up her rug and left her nowhere to lie.

I spread her new mat out in front of my chair where she likes to recline while I have my first coffee of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, well, well.

It’s been much cooler since then, in fact, some people confess to having switched their central heating back on.

That’s Britain for you.

We’ll see what happens if we have any more heatwaves.

 

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, Highbury Park, Isis at home, Isis says "No"., oh dear, park dogs, park people, poor Isis, sleeping, something's not right, these dogs!, VERY early in the morning., walking in the park, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

perfect weather

Posted on August 2, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

We’ve had a lovely week, Human and me. It’s rained nearly every day.

Last Sunday when we first get to Highbury though, Human bullies me. She makes me walk up to the little path which goes from right near where we drive into the park up to the little hills where I used to play round the big holly tree. I don’t do that anymore. Now I’m a groan up, sefisticated dog and I don’t run round trees any more. I don’t play with hedges any more eyether. If it’s a dry day I consentrate on the sents.

Human likes me to run around and get lots of exersize. Silly Human. I’m not a pup any more. I have a very, very descrimernating nose. She so doesn’t understand how much infermashon there is in one drop of someone else’s pee, or where they’ve put their swetty feet, or where their fur has touched the leafs as they ran past, or where they’ve sneezed on a twig.

We go to Highbury again the next day. This time there’s a bit of sun witch I don’t like. We don’t get out of the car in the car park like yesterday. We get out in the road under the trees and go past the house where the park man lives. He’s at home. I can smell him. He’s got a big hairy dog. But she’s all right. She doesn’t bark at you or sniff your bottom.

Human lets me choose where I want to go, so I walk all round the shrubberry. I sniff and sniff and sniff for ages. That was very good. Then I walk to those big pine trees I used to play in for hours when I was an unserfisticated pup. Today, of coarse, I just visit them for old time’s sake. I think silly Human ecspects me to run round and round them like I used to. She can be very rediculus. I just want a sniff or two. Nothing intresting there, so I strol in a dignifide way over to my speshul place in the tall plants, past the old half chopped down oak tree.

Usyerly she puts me on the lead and takes me away from my speshul place or she runs in frunt of me and stops me going there, but she lets me today. Dog knows why. She’s not a logicle  person.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway, today she lets me go where I want so I lie in the water in my speshul place. I can feel the water along the back of my legs and all underneath me. It’s lovely.

The next day it’s dry when we leave home. Disserpointing. But when I smell Highbury Park through the window, it’s raining. How ecsiting. We don’t stop there thow, we go to Holder’s Lane.

It’s poring. It’s wonderful. I’m so ecsited I can’t keep still. Human will be able to feel the lovely rain too. She left her coat at home.

We go to Cannon Hill. I can’t tell you what an amazing time we have. I trot, and bownce and twirl and dance and dance and dance.

We go all the way round the big lake and back through the woods. I don’t have to go on my lead at all. I only smell four peepul in all of the park. Funny, isn’t it. Perhaps they’re still in bed.

When we get back to the car, she raps me up in my drying thing and pats me all over. Then I have a drink.

When we get home, she takes all of her clothes off and drops them on the floor. Then I get dried again before I have a rest.

On Wensday it’s raining so when we go out of the gate, I pull her so quickly down the road she nearly trips up. Something very rude buzzes in my ear and she makes me slow down and walk next to her.

How silly. One day she wants me to run fast and get ecsersize, another day she makes me walk slowly.

Anyway, the smells are great. It’s a long time sinse we walked to Kings Heath Park and you wouldn’t beleeve how many dogs have peed on the pavement or how many kitties and foxes and squirrels have jumped on the walls.

It’s nice and wet so we have a very good time. We always have an argument when it’s time to go home thow. I keep pulling Human towards the car park so we can ride home in the car, but she keeps grumbling and hissing down my ears and poking me when I sit down. She always makes me walk home.

Still, the rain comes again when we leave the park so that cheers me up.

On Thursday it’s raining again so we wander all over Highbury Park, just enjoying getting wet.

And on Friday I have a lovely serprize. We go to Clowes Woods and it’s poring with rain. I can’t lift my tail high enuff to show how pleesed I am.

Soon, my tail goes down again because Rufus rushes up and bashes me in the face. It hurts. But I can’t snap at him because he’s my frend and he loves me.

Thank Dog, he goes off again with Nancy and leaves me to sniff. And how I sniff and sniff and sniff. Often I stand in the same place for ages. I think the Humans want me to hurry up, but I pretend I don’t notis and keep on sniffing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s just wonderful to be here again. I thort I was coming last week but I think Human thort it wood be too muddy. I bet it wasn’t. Today it’s just perfect.

Only one thing annoys me and Rufus and Nancy. When we walk a long way by the side of the lakes, we suddenly came to a fence. And it’s very strong. Even I can’t get throo. What a cheek.

 

 

 

Photo by Bev Dakin

 

 

 

It’s a brillient walk, thow, and on the way back when we come to a clearing, I have to do a rain dance to celerbrate.

The next day is Saterday, I think. And it’s raining again!!!!! Oh joy!

Human takes us to Holder’s Lane but this time we go the other way. At the start, I’m fed up becorz she makes me walk down past the boring car park. She won’t let me go up to the woods until I’ve done two poos and she’s put them in the bin. I think that’s very unreesernable. I like doing the first two poos in the woods. I think there aren’t any bins in the woods so she has to carry the poos a very long way. How lazy can you get?

After that, today is great fun. When we get to the woods, she lets me go where I want and she follows me. I take her into a bit of the woods we’ve never been to before, and then I lead her to a very small path. I can smell the fields. We keep coming to little tracks going down to the fields. I stop and sniff them but they’re all boring.

Then I find one that goes straight down like wen you fall off something tall. It’s very, very steep and it’s muddy and slidy. I choose this one and I walk down the middle. She walks on the grass at the side. Tee-hee.

It takes us down to the cricket field, past all the people.

It starts to por down. Oh, it’s abserlootly wunderful. I want to dance on the cricket pich, but she won’t let me. I keep running on to it, and she keeps dragging me off again. I try so many times, I feel quite cross. In the end, I have to dance on the rest of the field.

It’s a lovely walk thow. We get abserlootly soked.

 

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, Clowse Woods, Highbury Park, Holders Lane Woods, Isis is no angel, Kings Heath Park, park dogs, rain, rain and more rain, scenting, these dogs!, twirling, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like bright sun, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I wanna go HOME!

Posted on July 25, 2021 by patinkingsheath

 

 

A post should appear each Sunday!

 

Sunday July 25th 2021

 

We have had two weeks of very hot sun. Unheard of. We don’t do very hot sun in Britain.

Poor Isis does not fare well. One day in the first week I take her to Highbury. We’re there by nine but she isn’t happy. Already it’s very warm and, it seems, getting warmer every minute. The trees cast very dark shadows. The ground is striped with bright light and deep shade.

Isis is downcast. Her tail is tucked so far under her that it’s not visible at all. She creeps around restlessly, ducking and flinching.

We meet Y and Blitzi. Blitzi is very happy. He’s spent the last hour on a loop, leaping into the pond for a swim and scrambling out for a shake.

I stop for a chat. We’ve not been in the park for an hour yet, but Isis slinks off towards the car park. She wants to go home.

For the next three days she doesn’t want to leave the house. She’s even reluctant to go into the garden.

I try taking her for a road walk in the evening. She refuses to walk.

I take her out into the lane and give her a squeaky toy. After a few minutes, she wants to return, but I don’t open the gate. She brings the toy and lies as close to my chair as she can get.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s where she stays. After half an hour we return to the house.

Well that wasn’t exactly a rip-roaring success.

I can’t blame her. I don’t feel like doing anything either, and succumb to a doze on the day bed. As the evening draws on, I am aroused by loud clunks and clanks. What the hell’s going on, I wonder.

It’s Isis throwing her toys around the room.

This is a dog who needs exercise.

I must make a sacrifice for my hairy podengo. A big one.

I must take her out very early in the morning.

The next day is Monday, and I wrench myself away from my Emma mattress at an hour too obscene to name.

We’re going  to Kings Heath Park. This is her home park, this is where, years ago, she eventually learned to feel safe outside the bounds of her own back garden. It’s a default go-to place for her when she’s having a bad time.

We arrive soon after seven. It’s cool and fresh. The sun is already quite bright, but not yet strong enough to make black shadows.

Isis is jumpy and wary, but her tail is unfurled part way, and she lingers to sniff the new scents. After an hour, she suggests that it’s time to go home, and that’s fine.

We go to Kings Heath Park on Tuesday and again on Wednesday. Isis copes quite well, but still thinks an hour is enough.

On Thursday Bev suggests that we meet up in Clowse Woods. She was there with Rufus and Nancy the previous day, and tells me that the woods were shady and cool. And, as an added bonus, almost all of the mud which accumulated during our weeks and weeks of rain, has dried out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What an excellent idea. Soon after we arrive, Hairy One’s tail unfolds, and she’s eager to follow all the scents she comes across. Since there are hundreds of tempting scents, we amble rather than walk.

We are in the woods for almost two hours and Isis doesn’t show any signs of being desperate to leave.

On Friday it’s quite dull and Isis is fine with a slow wander around Highbury. On Saturday It’s overcast, and she is keen to hop out of the car. She can smell rain on the air. Only a few tiny spots materialise, but she leaps up to greet them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have a very enjoyable walk.

This is more like you, my dog.

 

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, Clowse Woods, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, Holders Lane Woods, Isis says "No"., Kings Heath Park, oh dear, poor Isis, scary shadows, scenting, VERY early in the morning., walking in the park, walking with Rufus and Nancy, we don't like bright light, we don't like bright sun, who'd be a human? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments