the birds, the bees, and two kisses

Posted on April 16, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Sunday April 16th 2017

 

It’s Saturday again and Isis and I are in Highbury Park (again). Do we live in Highbury Park? Not quite. But Isis is ever hopeful.

It’s cold when we emerge from the car, very different from last weekend. I wish I’d brought a scarf and woollen gloves along.

Brrrrr!

While we’re spiralling from top to bottom of the pine avenue, the sun pops out. Now I’m sweating into my lambswool polo neck and unzipping my heavy waterproof jacket.

After half an hour among the pines, I walk Isis over to the edge of the wood and drape  myself over the bench. Isis, uncharacteristically obliging, potters happily in the vicinity.

The bench is made of metal and a rigid composite. It’s very hard, so I always lead Isis up to it and gently push her against it to remind her exactly where it is. In the past she has caught her face on it. She rarely cries, but if she knocks herself hard, she shakes herself very vigorously, so you know it hurts.

We walk along the pond-side path. On Thursday Liz told us that the Canada goose pair had begun sitting on their nest on the little island in the pond. Sure enough, one is safely ensconced on the nest, the other on guard in the water a few feet away. The latter glides towards us, glaring  meaningfully at Isis.

Every year a pair of these birds nests on the little island. They’re brilliant parents and rarely lose a chick. Last year the pair hatched six chicks and all of them grew to adulthood.

There’s always the excitement of waiting for them to hatch. One year a friend and I were lucky enough to see them emerge from their nest for the first time and to watch their parents introducing them to the pond.

We walk onto the main field where we’re met by the enthusiastic Dougie and Fergie.

A honey bee, tempted from its hive by the sudden warmth, is sunning itself on the back of L.’s parka. I slide a finger under its feet and it walks onto my hand. When I lift up my hand, the bee flies off towards the trees.

Soon one of a friendly, very boisterous pair of young boxers rushes up. He dashes to Isis, greeting her enthusiastically. Hairy One is frightened. Her tail drops, her ears flatten, and  she begins to back away. As soon as the boxer moves on, dear little Dougie hastens up to Isis and gently nuzzles her cheek.

L. and the poodles have already walked along the new woodland paths, but they’re happy to walk them again in the opposite direction. We stroll up alongside the Community Orchard, and L. suggests we let Isis choose which paths to take and just follow her. Sure enough, Isis trots confidently ahead. Each time she reaches a fork, she sniffs around carefully before deciding which path to take.

Bingo! Without any assistance, she reaches her favourite grassy mound and begins to dance on it.

 

 

 

 

She recognises the mound long before I do. This is not the greatest of compliments, as I have absolutely no sense of direction. (I recall that, long ago, when I told a boyfriend that I’d decided to learn to drive, he rudely remarked,

“Oh god, no! Well, at least you’ll be able to get lost far more quickly than you can now.”)

Anyway, L. and I are very impressed and tell her what a very clever little dog she is.

L. says that she stood on the mound for a long time the day before, just marvelling at all the birds she could hear. Sure enough, there is birdsong all around us: tweets and chirps and whistles. A blackbird is warning someone off his territory, a robin is singing contentedly; we hear the piercing squawk of a jay, and numerous  birds which we can’t identify are racketing away in the shrubs and trees around us.

L. tells me later that the guy who lives in the park keeper’s house walks his beautiful  German Shepherd around the park very early every morning and regularly sees badgers and deer: Muntjac, I presume, as Highbury is a comparatively small park.

Wow! Amazing. Isis and I will definitely make a dawn visit.

When we walk under the archway and into the walled garden, we hear the screech of the parakeets, several of which have survived here for several years now. L. manages to catch sight of two of them perched on a high branch, but I only get a glimpse of one as it flies off.

I think that Isis is beginning to feel that she’s part of a little pack when we’re with L., Dougie and Fergie,

Today, in the landscaped area, she plays close by for about twenty minutes before coming over to check us out. She sniffs both humans. When I bend down to make a fuss of her, she lifts her head and gives my nose a lick. A very rare gift.

It’s been a delightful afternoon.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in clever girl, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, running running, walking in the park | Tagged , | 2 Comments

a brief taste of summer

Posted on April 13, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Wednesday April 12th 2017


This week we’ve reverted to our winter coats, hats and gloves as the temperature has plunged again. The sun drenched weekend seems like a fantasy.

But it happened, and here is Isis, last Sunday evening, sleeping off a lovely weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

On both Saturday and Sunday we spend over two and a half hours in the warm sun in Highbury Park.

On Saturday, Dougie the miniature poodle finds us before we reach the stream. Close behind him are brother Fergie and, following after, owner L.

Hardly have we finished our greetings when we bump into Jack Russel squirreller Lola and her person Jo. We all walk up the slope to the little beech wood, through to the back paths, and onto Hairy One’s favourite hillock. Here, Dougie and Lola look for squirrels to annoy, Fergie and L. play with a squeaky ball and Isis twirls endlessly in the shade beneath the trees.

Then we set off along the top path, strolling across the twiggy, branch-shadowed little tracks, weaving our way towards the Community Orchard.

We all notice how confident and chirpy Isis is. Jo. hasn’t seen her following the paths off-lead before and is amazed. Hairy One is getting to know these paths very well and for much of the time trots ahead of the group, tail waving high. None of the three dogs react when Isis walks into them, nor does Isis react when they brush past her.

I notice that when we come to forks in the path, she drops back and lifts her face up to me. I think that she’s checking which route we are taking, because, when I direct her with a touch or two, she trots off and takes the lead again.

We walk down the slope alongside the Community Orchard and back into the main park  again.

Isis goes back on her lead. But soon, a determined tugging tells us that she wishes to be free again so that she can follow the little track which leads up to the walled garden and  onto the undulating landscaped area where there are favourite trees to worship and shrubs and scrubby areas to explore.

On Sunday, after a preliminary prance on the meadow and a quick drink from the stream, Isis is taken up to her beloved pine avenue. After thirty minutes of dancing, prancing and pruning, she must, I decide, be ready to move on, so I capture her and and walk her to the bench at the edge of the little beech wood. Optimistically, I release her and sink onto the bench next to Ji.

She snuffles perfunctorily among the daffodils. But her heart isn’t in it. She soon sniffs her way back across the field to the pines and resumes her dance routine.

Sigh.

Once Hairy One pops behind a pine tree, it’s impossible to see her from the bench, so lazy Human is obliged to plod back across the field. I give her another ten minutes in the avenue and then recapture her, suggesting for a second time that it might be nice for a dog to trot around in the vicinity of the bench.

Pointing her in the opposite direction from the pines, I sink to rest once more. Then I watch as she weaves her way across the field, back to her piny dance floor.

Sigh.

Reluctantly, we follow her.

We are still there when we are discovered by a joyful Dougie, followed by an equally joyful Fergie. Ji. watches over Isis who waltzes in and out of the trees for at least another twenty minutes. Then off we go around the pond, across the stepping stones. When, once before, I led Isis across these stones, she was very jittery and uncertain. But now she is happy to follow the others. She explores each stone with her front paws, apparently to determine where it begins and ends, then steps forward confidently.

After we emerge onto the field, we meet Y. with Bo and Ruffi.

Thirteen weeks ago Y. collected Bo from the rescue centre almost as soon as the dog arrived from Serbia. The poor little creature was in a terrible state, miserable and stinking of the faeces and urine which matted her coat. Pitifully thin, she weighed just over five kilos.

I’d not seen Bo since her first appearance in the park almost three months ago. Her coat had been recently shaved, and her backbone and ribs were clearly visible.

I’d received updates from L. on how well she was progressing, but wasn’t prepared for the transformation. In only eleven weeks, the once pathetic,  head-hanging, nervous little wreck has become a beautiful, bouncy, mischievous dog with soft, thick hair and weighing  fifteen kilos.

The fine weather has brought out the family picnickers, and, before Y. can stop them,  naughty Bo. grabs a cupcake and Ruffy devours it. Fortunately, the picknicking family waves aside poor Y.’s apologies, and our group slinks off to the landscaped mounds where we humans sit on a fallen tree trunk and the dogs play and rest.

Except for Isis who plays and plays and plays some more.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in clever girl, deaf/blind dog plays, Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, park dogs, relationship building | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

thanks for your help ……..

Posted on April 9, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Sunday April 9th 2017

 

Thank you for your very sensible advice and suggestions. I found everyone’s comments very helpful.

I’ve been unrealistic and have expected far too much of little Isis.

We’ve changed our regime, and begun, as I should have done in the first place, with the basics.

Several of you commented on the fact that Isis was obviously very startled by the whistle  and would therefore be unlikely to respond positively to the sound, let alone approach its source.

This is challenging as, obviously, she can’t see hand signals and, as she’s no longer very food-orientated, exciting smells don’t draw her in  from any distance either. To complicate things further, this particular whistle is the only sound she’s ever responded to, except for birds screeching close overhead and angry dog barks. These frighten her too.

Sigh.

But, you suggest, there’s hope yet.

And there is. Hairy One always has treats at night after her last visit to the garden, and she waits for them expectantly as soon as we come back inside. We can build on that.

O.K., I follow your suggestions. I hang the whistle round my neck before offering my handful of treats for her to sniff. Then I go into the back room and sit on the futon. She follows me immediately and sits down close to me. I put my arms around her – she allows this now, as long as I don’t get too soppy – and fuss her gently while I blow the whistle. This time I don’t blow it as loudly as I can, only as loudly as I need to in order for her to hear it. I blow it in a little ‘toot-toot-toot’ pattern, rewarding her with the treats as I blow.

For the first time, she appears to be unfazed by the whistle. She no longer starts, jumps, or flinches.

Before, I spread the treats around the room, in her den, under my desk, on rails and chair seats etc. She couldn’t wait to rush off and find them. Surprisingly, she has taken to the new arrangement without any hesitation.

She has only introduced one rule of her own:  when there are only two treats left, she leaps to the floor and waits for me to ‘hide’ them, one in her den and the other under my desk. I’ve no idea how she knows that we’ve got down to the last two! I expect I’m giving off some kind of unintended signal which is perfectly obvious to a dog.

I intend to be as patient as I should be, and continue this routine for at least another two weeks. (Does that sound about right?)

Of course, if she ever appears reluctant to leap onto the futon at treat time, I’ll stop and think again.

If all proceeds according to plan, may be the next step is to shift myself further along the futon, requiring her to move towards me in order to receive the treats.

She’s such a good little learner, I have high hopes of our eventual success ………………………

There is the question of her teacher, though, of course.

 

 

 

“Whatever!”

 

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in clever girl, relationship building, teaching my deaf/blind dog, training | Tagged , | 6 Comments

pups galore!

Posted on April 5, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Wednesday April 5th 2017

 

Puppies. Lots of them. Too many, think Rufus and Isis. Nancy thinks they’re rather sweet, and, of course, they need lots of treats for training, so it’s worth hanging out with them. Come to that, it’s worth hanging out with Isis, too, when treats are being given out, because Isis is slow to secure a treat and it’s quite easy, therefore, to grab one on its way from a human hand to her little pink mouth.

But Nancy is so sweet and good-natured that no-one retaliates. Even her most audacious heists don’t provoke so much as a muffled snarl or growl.

Maggie is the longest established newcomer. She’s about fifteen months now, but even at five months, she was a force to be reckoned with. As you can see, she’s perfectly capable of multi-tasking. There’s no way any dog will trick her out of that ball, and whoever might have the toy in his/her mouth when the chase begins, you can be certain that Maggie’ll have it between her teeth when the chase ends.

She’s even duped Rufus by nipping underneath him between his back legs to snatch a ball,  literally, from under his nose. He’s patient with pups, but enough is enough, and Maggie certainly pushes the boundaries.

Rufus finds that a close up explosive ‘BOOFF’ does the trick.

 

 

 

 

 

About a month ago, fluffy, squishy, twelve week old Scout arrived.

 

 

 

 

 

She’s a cockerpoo, and so soft to touch that it was difficult to keep one’s hands off her. That was before she was allowed off her lead. Now she arrives as though she’s just left the groomer’s and leaves looking as though she’s been up a chimney.

Scout was desperate to be off the lead, and Maggie was equally desperate for Scout to be off the lead. They were wild with excitement the first time Scout was free. Instant playmates, they chased, tripped, rolled and pounded each other until Scout had to be taken home to bed.

Things have hotted up, though, over the last three weeks, with the arrival of ten week old Reginald the Alaskan malamute.

 

 

 

 

 

Scout, of course, fell for the handsome little guy immediately, and he for her. Maggie, too, was enchanted, and everyone was very happy – except for poor Isis, on whom the little pups jumped until she escaped through the hole in the hedge. Maggie, who is exceptionally bright, sussed Isis out very quickly and treated her very deferentially, but Scout and Reggie have still not twigged that she’s different, and like to intrude on her private bank dances and bounce on her.

Not so often now, though, because they’re so absorbed in each other.

And someone else is not too happy. Poor Maggie’s smart little nose has definitely been put out of joint. Scout was, after all, her friend. Naturally, she has expressed her displeasure with a quick nip here and there, and Rufus has had to step in.

Fortunately, Louie is happy to play with Maggie and tensions are beginning to dissipate.

Our latest arrival is lovely Molly, the labradoodle. Here she is with her ‘sister’ Millie.

 

 

 

 

 

She came from Tears Rescue in Wales after being released from a breeding kennels. She is very thin, and although only eighteen months old, she is thought to have had two litters.

She had been with her new owner barely a week when we met her and already responded instantly to recall.

She is very friendly and affectionate.

Most touching of all is her reaction when released from her lead in the park. She races ecstatically around the old bowling green, absolutely delighted to be free. As her owner says. “How could you not take her for two good runs every day, whatever the weather?”

Molly, of course, completely understands the need to be very gentle around Isis. As do virtually all the dogs she meets.

As we all know, dogs are very sympathetic animals.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in Kings Heath Park, park dogs, the dogs of King's Heath Park, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

help!

Posted on April 2, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Sunday April 2nd 2017

 

Not a progress report. More of a no progress report.

Two or three weeks ago I reported that, at last, I’d found a whistle which Isis could hear. Optimistically, I also announced that I  would attempt to train her to respond to the whistle.

I hoped to emulate the behaviourist Skinner’s famous ‘stimulus – response’ experiment in which he trained a dog to connect a sound with a quality reward.

The stimulus for Isis would be the whistle. The target response would be for Isis to come to me when I blow the whistle. Easy.

Not.

I plan that the training will progress through five stages. The first four stages will take place in the house.

Stage 1

I stand within a couple of metres of Isis and blow a short, sharp blast on the whistle.

I reward her immediately with a little piece of cheese, and, of course, lots of pats.

Stage 2

I stand about a couple of metres away from Isis and blow a short, sharp blast on the whistle.

When Isis moves towards me, I reward her.

Stage 3

The same scenario. When Isis comes right up to me, I signal her to sit and then reward her as before.

Stage 4

Gradually, I move further away from her before blowing the whistle, eventually moving as far away as I can within her hearing range.

Stage 5

We move out into the garden and try stage 6. If necessary, we move back through the stages until she performs as well in the garden as she does inside.

Stage 6

We follow the same procedure but now we do it in the park. Wow. Bingo! We achieve recall! How amazing is that?

 

Good idea, I think. Only problem is we are still at stage 1. Things are not quite going to plan.

This is what actually happens:

I blow hard on the whistle which emits a loud shriek. Poor Isis jumps, cowers momentarily and tucks her tail between her legs. She recovers quickly though, and stands still looking puzzled. I rush forward and stick a treat under her nose. She gobbles down the treat, and off we go again.

Sometimes she comes towards me, but not often.

It is obvious to me that Isis has not yet made the connection between the sound of the whistle and the appearance of the reward.

She always cowers and tries to escape if a nearby dog barks at her. She also often cowers  when a bird screeches loudly overhead. Other than this, I had seen no evidence of her responding to a sound before she reacted to the whistle.

If, I reason, she shows fear and tries to take evasive action when she hears a dog barking or a crow screeching, she should be able learn to respond to other sounds.

What are we doing wrong – or neglecting to do right?

I know I’ve not been as consistent as I need to be. I have repeated the exercise often but not every day. Consistency isn’t my strong point, but that’s no excuse.

Most dogs are trained at a very early age to respond to sounds. Obviously this has not happened with Isis as she appeared to have no useful hearing.

When someone who has been blind or deaf from birth has their sight or hearing restored, s/he is not automatically able to see or hear. Because these senses are not merely mechanical but perceptual, people have to learn to interpret the images or sounds with which they are suddenly bombarded. Generally, learning to ‘see’ or ‘hear’ is a long and difficult process.

Hairy One’s hearing has not been restored, or, as far as I know, has not improved, so the comparison isn’t a perfect one, but it might still be useful. It may seem a strange idea, but I think that Isis needs to learn how to hear.

I’d very much appreciate any comments, advice or suggestions you have.

The only approach I can think of is to:

  • do whistle training at least twice a day, every day
  • try to find a way of making her less startled by the sound of the whistle, and
  • be very, very, patient and stick with each stage as long as it takes to master it.

 

 

 

 

Hmmmm ………………………. bet Skinner’s dog wasn’t a podengo.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in teaching my deaf/blind dog, training | Tagged , | 6 Comments

a disobedient dog

Posted on March 29, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Wednesday March 29th 2017

 

I think the world of her. Of course. I have huge admiration for her. Of course.

But just in case we’re all in danger of getting carried away, we should remind ourselves that Isis is no angel.

To put it politely, she is an exceptionally determined animal. To put it less politely, she is the most obstinate little beggar I’ve ever shared my home with. And this includes a very recalcitrant shih tzu.

Even so, I was taken aback by an incident which happened last week.

It’s a bright, sunny day in Highbury park and Isis and I enjoy hanging out in all her favourite areas. She cavorts on the meadow, dances around the pine trees, and has a good gallop on the slope below the little beech wood before padding off among the beeches towards the woodland walk. I follow her. It’s been dry and breezy for two days and the boggy parts on the higher ground are drying up nicely. At last.

I have to redirect Hairy One once or twice as we can’t agree on which path to take. She prefers the lower, still mud-sticky route which I, not unreasonably, am attempting to avoid.

So we do have one or two little contretemps, but nothing heavy.

Until, that is, we reach the final stretch. As we descend towards the communal orchard, Isis is drawn towards a right hand fork which – of course – leads onto the claggiest path. In vain do I give her the gentle little cheek pats which indicate the direction we’re taking. Pat, pat on her left cheek, “This way, sweetheart.”

Usually, she complies readily. But not now.

She tries to push past me.

Pat, pat on left cheek again. “This way, sweetheart.”

Her front legs stiffen. Stand-off.

It’s a lovely day and Human is feeling cheerful and tolerant.

Pat, pat. “This way sweetheart.”

“Nyaff!” says sweetheart, flicking her teeth against my hand and looking very cross.

Human’s tolerance evaporates. It’s her turn to snap. “You naughty little dog!”, she snarls before clipping on naughty little dog’s extending lead and giving it a tug.

What does Isis do? Trot obediently after me? Not on your Nelly.

She does what she always does on these occasions. She stiffens her sturdy front legs, spreads out her toes and jerks back her head until the harness is wrapped round her pink spotty nose.

 

 

 

 

Often I’m tempted to leave her trussed up for a minute or two, but then other, kinder, dog owners rush up, declaring, “Poor little thing! Let me hold the lead while you free her.”

Then I feel impelled to smile benignly and unwrap the irritating little creature. Grrrrrrrrr.

Today we are alone so I scowl at her, flip the harness back again, remove the extending lead and clip on her Makuti walking lead. Both the harness and the cross chest clips. This tells her I mean business. She trots obediently by my side. So I should think.

When we reach the bottom of the community orchard and the mounds of different composts – chippings, leaves, and soil – which are so alluring to Isis, I relent and release her again. Well, she was corrected, shown the right path for a dog to follow, metaphorically speaking, and now we can forget her misdemeanor. We don’t hold grudges.

As I watch her pottering around contentedly, I am startled by a shout, “Pat! Look out! Dougie!”

It’s L., thoughtfully enabling me to avoid being smacked across the back of my knees by Dougie who is hammering his way towards me at full pelt down the slope. I thank L. and tell her about naughty Isis.

I turn to point at the miscreant. But the top of the soil mound upon which she was happily sniffing is empty.

Where the hell is she? She can’t have gone far.

Then I spot her. I can’t believe it. We both gaze open-mouthed back up the slope which we’ve just descended. A hairy white rump is rapidly disappearing into the scrub. I suddenly realise where the little b. is going.

L., Dougie, Fergie and I race after her.

Yes. She’s hurrying to the path I wouldn’t let her take. Before I can grab her, she defiantly plonks both front feet into a pool of thick, slimy mud.

“Well,” says L. “We might as well take this path now.”

So we do.

Isis gets her own way: little toad.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, Isis is no angel, walking in the park | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

trusting Human

Posted on March 26, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Sunday March 26th 2017

 

On Wednesday evening, I sit on a bench watching Isis carefully as she dashes around off-lead on the grass.

She pops up the little slope and checks me out. I pat her. She wags.

I wave to J. who’s walking down towards the old bowling green. I turn back to Isis.

She’s not there.

I can’t believe it. I only looked up for a few seconds.

I rush round the hedge and into the garden which leads onto the bowling green.

Phew! There she is. She’s standing still in the late sunshine, gazing around her. She looks very relaxed. I hastily clip her extended lead to her harness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She begins to run. I relent and set her free again. Before I can stop her, she trots off merrily into a flower border. Thankfully, no flowers are blooming there at this time of year. Rustle, rustle. She’s tangled up in a patch of dead flora. She moves backwards, stops and tries to shake herself free. Then she moves forwards and tries to free herself again. She’s shakes herself vigorously, ducks and dives, and, at last managing to disentangle herself, threads her way back onto the grass.

Then she begins to trot around, twirling and dancing. She looks very happy. No neurotic circling, no snapping at her tail.

“Ah, dear little thing,” I coo to myself, “she looks so sweet.” I decide to catch her on video, doing a ‘normal’.

Click. Off we go.

But after a few seconds, she slings her head at her rear end. Snap! Snap! She does this for as long as the video runs – well over a minute.

Sigh.

What’s the matter with her? Now why is she biting herself? There’s always a reason, I remind myself. It’s just a matter of  determining what the reason is.

She looks very uncomfortable. I place my hand gently on her back. Immediately she stands still and lets me look.

No wonder the poor little creature is distressed. Embedded in her hair are ten or twelve dried flower heads. Upon closer examination, I discover that the a single head contains dozens of seeds, each with its own little barb.

“Dear, dear, dear,” I say sympathetically. I know she can’t hear, but I always say this to her when she is upset. It seems to calm her. Perhaps it’s the vibrations.

A large prickly pod lurks in the whiskers on either side of her mouth. She tries to scratch one of them out with a back foot. She doesn’t succeed. Nor do I when I try to scratch it out with my fingernails.

Sigh.

Back at home, we both eat before attempting to remove the seeds.

I examine her very carefully. The seeds will be very difficult to remove. They are balled up in her hair, next to the skin and attached to dozens, even hundreds, of hairs. Most seem to be in particularly sensitive area. The two on her face are buried deeply in the hair which covers her upper lip. Others, just as firmly embedded, are inside each of her upper thighs, in the hair around her genital area, under the base of her tail, and clustered among the hairs of her under-belly

Poor Isis.

It’s almost impossible to know where to begin.

The only way I can get the seeds out is to separate them from the hairs. Now and then it is possible to tease a seed from a strand of two, three, or even four  hairs, but often a hair has to be dealt with individually. And I need both hands in order to separate the hairs and tease out each barbed seed.

It takes me forty-five minutes to remove them all, and little Isis is absolutely magnificent. She obviously understands that I am helping her. Most of the time she stands absolutely still without being held. When she gets tired, she sits or lies down. When I need her to stand again, I place my hand gently under her and she stands up again.

I try very, very hard not to tug her hair, though I must be causing her considerable discomfort. But throughout the whole procedure, she doesn’t utter even the tiniest of growls. Although I know she can’t hear me, I speak to her softly while I’m working, reassuring her and praising her, giving her kisses and little hugs.

However we are achieving it, we seem to be communicating perfectly, sharing our purpose, at one as we’ve never been before.

When, at last, the tangles have all been separated and the nasty little seeds removed, I hug her and she wags her tail.

She has been amazing. I can’t believe a little animal could put up with all that without even the smallest protest.

She never ceases to amaze me.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in dear little Isis, I'm off my lead!, Kings Heath Park, relationship building, running | Tagged , | 6 Comments

damn, damn, double damn, three bloody hells and a b—–

Posted on March 22, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Wednesday March 22nd 2017

 

It’s raining again. Pouring, actually. Tipping it down. Great. I have to be up early. If there’s anything more dismal than looking out of the window at slashing rain at 8.45 a.m., it’s looking out of the window at slashing rain at 6.45 a.m.

Isis, of course, cannot wait to jump out of the car and bounce around in the car park. We don’t begin well. The driver door is locked, but before I slam Hairy One’s door shut, I check that the car key is in my pocket.

Bitter experience of walking home from the park with an indignant dog, retrieving my spare house key from my long suffering neighbours, and hunting through drawers for my spare car key before tramping back to the park to begin the park walk which Isis expects, has taught me to check I have the car key with me before slamming the door.

This morning I know it is in my pocket. I search all four pockets of my anorak while Isis twirls around catching rain drops. It’s not there. A particularly energetic Isis twirl dislodges a glove from under my arm. Naturally, it falls into a deep puddle.

I say very rude things and tie Isis up to the fence while I search my pockets again.

And again.

And once more as Isis leaps ecstatically in and out of the huge puddle at the base of the fence.

Eventually, I discover the missing key in my inside pocket and we set off.

One forgets how difficult it is to insert a cold, damp hand into a wet glove. I have just completed this challenging task when, of course, I have to withdraw the hand again to employ a poo bag.

Well timed, Isis.

But it’s hard to remain grumpy when Hairy One is so happy.

Today the park is virtually empty, so, for the first time, I release Isis and allow her to walk down the main path to the level above the old bowling green. She trots joyfully onto the grass where she runs wild, pirouetting, leaping and prancing for over an hour.

We squelch back home where Isis is dried and I change out of saturated anorak, wet sweater and t-shirt.

Donning waterproof – ha! – number two, I depart.

Back at lunchtime to take dog for a short road walk. She wears her mac and I waterproof number two.

To be fair, she doesn’t walk too badly considering it is still raining steadily.

When I return home late in the afternoon, it’s pouring again. I now have two wet anoraks. I choose the least soaked and we set off to the park again.

On her extended lead Isis spins energetically on the main field. She is delighted. She looks as though she can’t believe her luck – three outings and the rain flies are still here!

But wonder of wonders, slowly, slowly, the sky lightens, the rain drops dwindle, and the sun sneaks out, smoothly spreading itself against a pale grey and blue sky.

 

 

 

 

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in deaf/blind dog plays, I'm off my lead!, Kings Heath Park, running, twirling, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Isis walks alone

Posted on March 19, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Sunday March 19th 2017

 

On Saturday we spend three hours in Highbury Park, today almost as long. Both days Isis and I are discovered by Dougie the miniature poodle, followed by his housemate Fergie.

 

 

 

 

 

When they find us, Isis has already danced among her fir trees and enjoyed a good sniff around the bench by the little beech wood, so she’s happy to set off in another direction on her extending lead.

There has been a strong wind for three days; hopefully, it will have dried out some of the boggiest parts of the new paths which weave their way from the beech wood to the community orchard.

L. and I and the three dogs wind our way round the huge mud puddle where the main path leaves the edge of the wood and begins to wind downhill.

I release Isis from her lead and she walks ahead of us behind Dougie and Fergie. Now and then, she pops off the path and has to be retrieved.

We have a tricky time when we reach the little wooden bridge. First, Isis decides she’ll trot round the end of the bridge to where there’s only a narrow plank across the thick mud. L. alerts me and I nip round and grab her as she approaches the morass. I guide her back and onto the bridge.

Then she ducks under the right hand lower railing and makes her way back to the edge of the bog. L., quick off the mark, snatches her back just as she is about to plunge over the edge. Once more, the adventurous animal is retrieved and replaced on the straight and narrow. This time she ducks under the left hand railing and is soon poised precariously on the edge of a deep, black, muddy pool. I lunge at her, aware that she is so close to the edge that a slight touch could push her in.

Lucky again, we stagger back to the bridge. This time I walk very closely behind her as she sniffs her way across. Once over the bridge,we pick up the higher path. Soon, off nips Isis, back to the grassy mound, one of her favourite prancing sites.

Sigh.

Off I rush after her.

She doesn’t complain when she is recaptured, just wags and trots off at the end of her extended lead.

Today we keep to the higher paths, avoiding the bridge. Again Isis trots along confidently, tail held high, sometimes behind Dougie and Fergie, sometimes just ahead, checking out the edges of the paths, navigating protruding stalks and brambles.

 

 

 

 

 

L. and I notice how careful the little poodles are with her. They have always greeted her extremely carefully, with gentle sniffs, and she’s never been afraid of them. Now we observe that when there isn’t room to pass without pushing against her, they hang back. And we often notice them watching her, as though they know that there are things she’s not supposed to do, places she’s not supposed to be in.

We are both very impressed with her today. Sometimes she hesitates and turns round to check that one of us is behind her, but when I give her the ‘follow me’ tap under her chin, she carries on along the path.

She doesn’t try to escape back to her mound. Amazingly, most of the time she keeps to the path. Often, she appears to be following Dougie and Fergie; also, we think, she is getting used to the area.

I can hardly believe what she has done today. It feels like a remarkable achievement. It’s difficult to express how delighted I am with her. Of course, she has enjoyed stretches of freedom in the parks for some time now, but to have her walking with us is a whole new world.

It’s very, very exciting.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in clever girl, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, I'm off my lead!, park dogs, relationship building, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

a visitor for Isis

Posted on March 16, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

Posting days: Sunday and Wednesday and, sometimes, maybe, extra ‘news flashes’!

 

Wednesday March 15th 2017

 

Isis is very territorial. She barks aggressively when we walk out onto the pavement in the morning because she can smell that someone has just walked, or is about to walk past her garden wall.

In the house last year, on two separate occasions, she snapped at a visitor who tried to pat her. Since then I have been very wary of introducing her to visitors she doesn’t know.

My friend T., whom I’ve not seen for several years is visiting. She’s been at Crufts since the early hours of Thursday. One of the North West team, she’s been processing scores for the obedience scoreboard.

Isis and T. have not met before, so when she arrives on Monday, I caution her to ignore Hairy One completely, and wait for the doggy approach.

Isis is snoozing deeply on the futon. It takes her a few minutes to pick up T.’s scent. Interestingly, she doesn’t bark, but performs her usual scenting circles from the back room along the length of the hall. Then, still sniffing hard, she enters the front room cautiously and sits down close to me.

The blinds, of course, are open – we have to draw the line somewhere, and the line in my case is drawn at keeping the back room virtually blacked out, switching off the landing light when Hairy One is about to climb the stairs, and only having lights on in the kitchen and bedroom when absolutely necessary.

I have explained to Isis that I will not close the blinds or switch off the light when she joins me in the front room, that, inevitably, the light will irritate her, but it’s her choice. She ignores the advice.

Generally, when I am in the front on my own, she snoozes by herself in the back room, and only pops in briefly now and then to check on me. But nowadays, if there are visitors, she insists in joining us.

I warn T. in advance that, intermittently, Isis will leap up with a ferocious snarl and complain very loudly about the light.

Predictably, Isis does exactly that.

Just as predictably, poor T. jumps violently, almost leaving her seat. Each time Isis performs, I apologise and suggest to Isis that she retires to her own room. Each time, T. assures me that there’s no need to apologise and that she doesn’t wish Hairy One to be banished.

Over time, T. learns to recognise the signs: first, three cross tail wags, second, a slow, deliberate raising of the head. Next, there’s a deceivingly quiet pre-snarl growl, then – prepare yourselves folks – an ear-piercing RA-RA-RA-RA-RA; the snarly intake of doggy breath; lastly, further long outbursts of RA-RA-RA, before a disgruntled subsidence into low growls.

T. has quite a jumpy time, but, like the confirmed dog lover she is, she tolerates Hairy One’s anti-social behaviour.

Each time Isis pops in to join us, she sniffs her way towards T. before moving back to settle on the rug. Each time, she retreats less far away.

After a few hours, she cautiously investigates the toe of T.’s left shoe and some of her belongings which are on the floor.

On Tuesday evening, Isis approaches T.’s armchair, gives her face a thorough sniff, and then settles down only two feet away.

This morning I get coffee in bed. T. peers at Isis who is stretched out on the duvet. She looks totally relaxed. Just one paw twitches rhythmically.

 

 

 

“Doggy heaven”, comments T.

I get up for a shower, return, dry myself, dress, and leave the room. Isis sleeps on. Obviously, the rôle of hostess has been very wearing for a small dog.

The visitor prepares to leave. It’s just after ten, and still Isis has not appeared.

We are by the front door when the click of little scratchy claws is heard from the landing above. A flurry of wild, white hair appears round the newel post.

Isis is pleased to see me and snuggles against me comfortably as I carry her downstairs. When we reach the bottom, T. runs her hand lightly through the hair on Isis’s back.

Hairy One doesn’t say a word.

It’s been a good visit.

 

Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.co.uk

Posted in dear little Isis, relationship building | Tagged , , | 2 Comments