a week in the life of a hairy dog

Posted on February 12, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Sunday February 12th 2017

 

One way or the other, a very damp, drippy week.

On the first day of the week Isis enjoys a lovely long romp in the privet enclosed area. Again, the only fly in the ointment is the deep ditch full of black slime. For most of the time, I manage to head her off, but, unfortunately, Ji. and I both take our eyes off her for a few seconds. When we next look, she has acquired four, black knee-socks. Needless to say, she does not enjoy being washed afterwards.

From Monday to Thursday, the sky remains grey and it drizzles continuously. Isis is unconcerned. She’s having a wonderful time. She enjoys increasingly long off-lead prances in Kings Heath Park. And, wonder of wonders, day after day, not only drizzle but flurries of white stuff fall on her twitchy nose. Oh joy! One dog’s  idea of heaven.

She continues to have a rollicking time on Thursday. But I don’t. Just as we are about to head for the car park, I greet a favourite dog. As I bend down, he jumps up. Smack! Red hot pain shoots through my nose. I think I have a nose bleed. And my stomach feels as though it’s been kicked.

Fortunately, Je. and Wilda emerge from the wooded area. Wilda behaves impeccably. Isis doesn’t. She races around on the end of her extended lead. She hasn’t a care in the world.

Je. informs me that I don’t have a bleed but a deep gash on the bridge of my nose. I think I must be looking a bit strange, as she insists the gash must be attended to. We call at the Park Ranger’s Office and I am soon on my way with a large dark blue plaster across my nose. No-one comments or stares, of course. We’re British, after all. I don’t feel quite myself, though, and am grateful that Je. was around.

Then comes Friday. The sun is out for a day and we are given a taste of what the end of the drizzly winter might be like. It is still very cold but our dog-walking hearts rise, and the mud under foot doesn’t seem quite so claggy. Isis doesn’t care if it is claggy or not. She dances her way through another happy day.

 

 

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The sun was teasing us. Saturday arrives and it’s freezing cold and wet. And grey. Again.

In the morning, of course, we sally forth into the murk. To Highbury, this time.

We soon meet Li. with Dougie and Fergie. While the rest of us greet other passing dogs, Isis dances by the privet. Then we’re off round the park.

We walk back along the stream. Isis, who needs a drink, is walking on her extended lead close to the edge of the bank. Suddenly, she steps onto an overhanging clump of grass. Splosh! She’s standing in the deep, icy water of the stream. For a few seconds she is in shock. Her little pink mouth is open wide and her top coat floats around her like a hairy white circular skirt.

I haul the poor little soul out by her harness and give her reassuring pats. Li. and I coo sympathetically. But Hairy One’s fine. After a quick shake, her beautiful tail pops back up and away she shoots. She no longer wants a drink, and leaps off dancing.

Today it’s the first day of next week, as it were, and it’s my turn for a tumble.

It’s Hairy One’s fault, of course. She’s been dancing happily on the nice, clean, mossy grass below the beech wood. Soon, little Dougie discovers us and we are joined by Fergie and Li., Then Isis dances off into the quagmire which was once a path into the woods. I, of course, have to set off in pursuit of the errant animal. Unhelpful as ever, Isis puts on a spurt and by the time I manage to catch her we are both up to our ankles in a thick, black bog.

Looking back at the sea of mud we’ve just come through, I, like MacBeth, decide that I am

‘Steeped in so far that, should I wade no more,                                                                              Returning were as tedious as go o’er’

Not a wise decision. Now the mud is even deeper. Soon, with a horrible, squelchy gurgle, my left wellington boot sinks into the muck. My foot jerks out of the boot and lands half a metre beyond it. As I attempt to manoeuvre my foot back into the boot, my hat falls down over my eyes. I make a grab for it but manage to drop it. ****! ****! ****!

Now I have one foot and both hands in the mud, and one filthily socked foot up in the air. This, I muse, is just the moment for Isis to leap forward and drag me along face down. But, fair play to her, she doesn’t. Perhaps she is feeling generous. Or maybe she just senses that something’s wrong. Whichever, she stands quite still until Li. arrives, glugging through the mud, and holds me upright by my elbow while foot and boot are reunited. A real act of friendship Li.

Dougie and Fergie are not about to be left out of the adventure, and soon all five of us are up to our ankles in mud. We all squelch forward towards terra firma.

Later, unkindly, I put Isis into a clean pool and her black leggings instantly fall off. She doesn’t hold it against me. As we know, she is a brave and forgiving little dog.

 

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, Highbury Park, Kings Heath Park, running, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

I’m all right, I am

Posted on February 8, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

 

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

 

Wednesday February 8th 2017

 

It’s Monday and I’m speaking on the phone to Polymath.

“It’s Hairy One’s R.S.P.C.A. appointment this week, isn’t it?”

“No”, I assure her, “I think it must be next week.”

I hope so. I’m tired.

But then I begin to wonder. I scan my diary and two calendars. No sign of any appointment. At 1.15 a.m. I’m still raking through the tottering heaps on my desk, searching for the bit of paper which has the next appointment on it.

No luck.

Then it occurs to me that, almost certainly, the appointment was made for exactly four weeks after the last one. If I’m right, then it definitely is tomorrow.

Damn. Gloomily, I set the alarm clock for 6.45.

Since I have to get up at this unearthly hour, of course I find it extremely difficult to sleep.

I awake to the radio switching itself on at 7.20. It’s my back-up alarm call.

*@*@!

In order to get to our 8.15 appointment on time, we should leave before 7.30 as the traffic becomes very heavy after this. And the neighbours’ newspapers, always welcomed by the R.S.P.C.A., have yet to be loaded into the boot.

Scrambling out of bed and uttering really disgusting curses, I lurch into the bathroom.

We leave at 7.43 and, miraculously, arrive at reception a couple of minutes late. Phew!

Isis, brave little dog that she is, is persuaded to walk until we are within three or four metres of the building. Then she is adamant: she won’t budge. I have to pick her up.

As soon as we enter, the poor little creature begins to tremble in anticipation of the anal gland procedure.

But the delightful young vet. is both gentle and quick, and Isis is soon ready to go home; tail erect, she’s looking perky again.

The vet. tells me that he and the nurse had been discussing Isis, and asks me whether she is still twirling and clicking her teeth.

Yes – and how!

He tells me that he is ninety-nine point nine per cent sure that Hairy One’s strange rituals are behavioural, not organic, and are rooted in past negative life experiences. Although this is the conclusion which I have been coming to, I’m not a vet, and feel a huge surge of relief.

Always the optimist, until quite recently, I have been afraid that there is something very wrong with Isis’s brain and that she might deteriorate, become critically ill and die.

The vet tells me that he has a dog and a cat who ‘spin’. He explains that the majority of ritual behaviours in humans and animals are related to grooming and eating. He gives me the very good analogy of human nail biting. It doesn’t improve your exam marks, but you still do it because it’s a distraction from the intense anxiety you feel.

Biting her feet, legs and tail, scissoring off clumps of her coat and banging her teeth together, are, of course, Hairy One’s specialities. When she came, the whole of her right thigh was nibbled down to her undercoat.

Thankfully, it is months now since she made herself bleed, or nibbled off her hair so that her skin was visible.

I think it’s time to stop worrying about her teeth wearing down and, instead, celebrate how much less anxious she seems to be.

 

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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, self-damaging, self-harming, strange behaviour, twirling | Tagged , | Leave a comment

clack-clack-clack

Posted on February 5, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Sunday February 5th 2017

 

I continue to worry about Isis wearing down her lovely white teeth with her frequent clack-clack-clacking dances, but this weekend I become aware that the clacking can also be very useful.

On Saturday Isis is enjoying her freedom in Highbury Park. First she spends a happy half hour trotting round a grassy area which is bordered on three sides by privet hedge. True, on one side there are two or three gaps through which Hairy One could exit. But this area is not close to the road, and she does not appear to have much interest in the gappy side, apart from a nifty hedge prune now and then.

She is much more drawn to the opposite side where there is a length of extremely unsavoury looking ditch full of very black mud.  Now, I know that a dog must be allowed to have fun, and that fun for dogs is often mud shaped. Ellie, my previous dog, had a favourite deep, mud puddle. The crows used to bathe there and, at every opportunity, Ellie would join them. When reprimanded, she would rise slowly from the morass, a happy smile on her face, looking as though she had been dipped up to her shoulders in thick, dark chocolate. Afterwards, of course, she needed a shower.

Isis, as we know, is not into being washed. She hates having her legs or paws handled. She becomes very upset, so I try to avoid it.

Needless to say, she gravitates towards the ditch. I manage to intercept her and we move to pastures new, the landscaped area the other side of the little stagnant pond.

As Isis frolics, Scamp and Gemma arrive. Their owners X. and St. tell me about their recent sightings of a kingfisher. St. tells me where to stand in order to have the best chance of seeing it.

Isis is clacking loud and clear, so a few minutes after the others have moved on, I walk to the spot and look towards the trees across the pond.

I can still hear the clacking perfectly clearly.

Almost immediately, I become aware of what appears to be a small, orange and blue sphere winking at me from the thick foliage. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t be that lucky”, I tell myself. I continue to stare at it, though.

After a few minutes, a small bird whirrs out from the leaves and lands on a nearby branch. It perches, facing me, and I have a perfect view of its beautiful chestnut bronze breast.

From the other side of the hedge, comes a steady clack, clack, clack.

I stand, gazing entranced at the kingfisher. I still can’t quite believe it’s not a blue tit in disguise.

Then suddenly, it flies from the branch, its wings emitting strobes of  dazzling, iridescent blue, swoops in a lightning arc across the pond and dives into the shallows.

Still a rhythmic clacking from the other side of the hedge.

It had been years since I had last seen a kingfisher. And then it was only a very quick whizz of blue in the distance.

Amazing. I’m elated.

Thanks Isis.”

“Clack.”

 

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, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

news flash

Posted on February 1, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

News flash

Wednesday February 1st 2017

 

I am told by Polymath that she is unable to make out dark images when she receives posts by e-mail. I apologise to others who may have the same problem.

Please let me know when strange things happen!

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

a walk on the dark side

Posted on February 1, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Wednesday February 1st 2017

 

Well, last Friday was an eye-opener. There we are in the porch. It’s four forty-five. There’s still a glimmer of daylight left outside. Isis is wearing her harness and lead and I’ve laced up my boots. Just as I’m opening the door, I recall that there is a delivery coming between five and six. Blast! Now I’ll have to take poor Isis back in.

The best solution, I decide, is to let her step outside. She’ll almost certainly refuse to move more than a few inches. She’s afraid of dusk. I had only decided to give her the opportunity on the off chance because she has only had one walk today.

Yes, you’ve guessed. For the first time ever, she shoots eagerly out of the door and makes her way determinedly towards the gate. Then out of the gate. Next, sniffing cheerily, she sets off along the pavement. Perhaps she’ll have a quick pee on the verge and turn back towards home. Needless to say, she has no intention of having a quick pee before returning home. She wants her walk. And she wants it now.

I allow her to walk to a spot from which I can see the delivery van if it stops outside the house. Then I make her return so that we can do the same in the opposite direction. She is not impressed; in fact, she is clearly disgruntled.

We go back in.

The delivery man comes at five thirty. It’s dark now. I wonder again whether Isis might be persuaded to go out. I don’t think so.

Again, though, I’m wrong.

True, she’s more cautious now, and when we reach the pavement she needs encouragement for the first few metres. But then, off she goes at her usual brisk pace, pausing only to investigate enticing smells and to make her marks.

We walk for forty minutes and she shows no fear at all.

I am delighted.

 

*****

Today, for the fourth consecutive Wednesday, I have to leave Hairy One at home on her own for most of the day. After her (horribly) early walk, I leave her for two and a half hours, rush back to take her out for a short walk and then depart for another two and a half hours.

I had been anxious about how she would react. I needn’t have worried. She is pleased to see me but doesn’t appear to be upset.

It’s four thirty before we set off to the park for our evening walk, and by the time we reach Hairy One’s favourite dancing spot, there’s only a few minutes of daylight left. I let her off her lead. At first she’s very cautious, staying close to my legs. But the urge to dance takes hold and she begins her little routines.

She doesn’t trot across the field as she usually does in the mornings when we are the only ones around, but stays within a radius of about ten metres. Although she seems perfectly happy when, after about twenty minutes, I put her back on the lead, she does not appear at all anxious.

As we walk up the slope along the edge of the field, she picks up an interesting scent and wants to follow it back down into the darkness. That’s amazing.

 

 

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The park lights are on by the time we reach the forecourt of the big house and Isis cringes. Reassuring pats do the trick. When we reach the little fence which leads off the main path and round to the car park, she leans against it and hurries along. She can continue along the main path if she wants to, but she doesn’t.

Usually, nowadays, she is very unwilling to approach the car park and to concede that her walk has come to an end. And she is very loathe to get into the car, standing instead by the open door, pretending that she has no idea what she is supposed to do. Tonight she trots towards the car and as soon as the door is open, in she hops.

Nevertheless, she has done very, very well. This time last year an evening walk was out of the question. Even during the daytime, changes of light freaked her out and I couldn’t count the number of times I had to bring her back home part way through her walk –  sometimes when we’d only just stepped out into the  car park. Sometimes before we got out of the car.

Who’s a clever dog then?

 

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, Kings Heath Park, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog, we don't like the dark | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

the dog bird

Posted on January 29, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Sunday January 29th 2017

 

Isis continues to enjoy her freedom. At the weekend, off we go to Highbury where there are several good spots in which she can be free.

Soon, when the daylight stretches into early evening, we will again go to Highbury every day for our second walk. Isis loves that!

Every week day morning we go down to the old bowling green in Kings Heath Park to meet our old friends. Nowadays, Isis can hardly contain herself as we walk down the sloping path. She doesn’t care to wait until she can access the field at ground level. Instead, she bustles along the path, then onto the grass beside it. I release her. She squirms her way between the trees which grow at intervals on the steep bank, and continues on her happy way. If we arrive ahead of Nancy, Rufus and little Maggie, Hairy One will choose the field as her playground. If this area is already occupied, she is likely to head for the bank.

One of the anxieties I had about setting her free was that she might run into other people or dogs and hurt them. I have to be very careful to avoid this when she is on her extended lead. But it appears that I have underestimated her. Again. When she is free, she takes responsibility, and, so far, has avoided any collisions.

So how do I spend my newly gained freedom?

Well, as I’ve mentioned before, conversation is much easier when one doesn’t have to spin round at the end of the very active Hairy One’s extended lead.

It is also, of course, possible to pat other delightful dogs. And, unsurprisingly, much easier to take photos.

Here’s one of lovely Abby and young Russet. It’s Friday morning and naughty Russet trots ahead of owner P. and big ‘sister’ Abby so that she can do her pretending-to-be-a-bird act. P. told me about this last week. Now I am about to witness it! I fumble to extract my phone from my pocket. The zip is stuck. Of course.

Russet begins the performance. Again and again she leaps up, hooks her paws over one of the three raised edges of the bird table, and rapidly snaffles the nearest tasty morsels. She has, P. tells me, already ascertained that if she tries the fourth side which has no edging, her paws slide off – but she checks out the table from all of the other three sides. Just as I think I’ve missed the photo opportunity, Abby arrives, up Russet pops again, and CLICK! Got her!

 

 

 

Oh dear, I didn't teach her this, honestly.

Oh dear, I didn’t teach her this, honestly.

 

 

 

P. and her husband have bred and trained guide dogs for many years. They’ve always had two dogs, and when Promise, their retired breeding bitch, is left without a canine companion, they take on Abby, rescuing her from a very distressing situation. Obviously, this gentle dog had once been loved, but, sadly, her elderly owner developed Alzheimer’s and lost the ability to care for herself, let alone poor Abby.

On the four hour journey home with the dog, her new owners realised that she was traumatised. Once home, she took to her soft new bed and refused to leave it. For six weeks, she had to be fed in her bed and dragged in it along the passage, into the kitchen and out into the garden to relieve herself.

Lovely Promise took on Abby, building her confidence and teaching her signs. When P. first managed to bring her into the park, Abby was terrified of people. But she began to show an interest in other dogs. P. carefully introduced the park humans. First, glued to her new owner’s side, Abby took a hesitant, long distance sniff. After a few weeks, she would cautiously sniff a proffered hand: now she approaches these once immensely threatening humans for a fuss.

On Friday she lies on the pine needles and rolls over for me to tickle her underside. Wonderful.

When Promise died last new year’s eve, not only her owners were devastated: Abby, too, was very distressed. She refused food and began tearing her hair out.

They had not intended to take on a young dog again, but a nine month old puppy desperately needed a home and they adopted her.

The months following her adoption were hair raising. Hyperactive and in need of a huge amount of exercise, she wouldn’t settle at night and lost any house training she had. This  upset the sensitive Abby so much that she followed suit.

In desperation, P. bought a crate for Russet to sleep in at night, and a tennis ball launcher which could be used in the garden and in the park. And sweet Abby began to teach the recreant better ways. Now the new arrival shares Abby’s bed, and races happily around the park after tennis balls.

Interestingly, little golden (in colour, not in behaviour, I hasten to assure you) Russet is the result of an unplanned union between a blue roan cocker spaniel and a black labrador!

The labrador bit, of course, won’t surprise anyone who looks at the above photo!

 

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, running running, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

on a bright and frosty morning

Posted on January 25, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Wednesday January 25th 2017

 

There are many wonderful things a dog can do on a bright and frosty morning – besides going round the mulberry bush.

Anyway, human likes going round the mulberry bush in the late summer when she can stuff her face with berries. I find it very boring.

This is the second frosty week we’ve had recently, and I love it.

And we’ve been up very early on three Wednesdays now. Three Wednesdays, one after the other. I don’t have to leave the bed until about eight thirty, but I can sense that human is huffing and puffing and saying very rude words much earlier than that. I just stretch out, sigh warm, cosy sighs and wiggle my toes until I get my wake up cuddles.

It’s dark when we leave the house. I don’t like it, so human has to reassure me. I’m soon popping into the car, though, warmly wrapped in my winter coat. I don’t know why human stays outside for such a long time, scraping something along all the glass and making the car vibrate. I’m sure she’s saying the very rude things again.

It’s light when we get to the park, and I can’t wait to leap out of the car. The scents are almost overwhelming. My nose quivers with excitement as I trot along, leaning against the fence which leads me to my favourite morning pee spot.

Then Bertie rushes past me. I can smell human giving him a gravy bone. I don’t really do seeking people out but today I decide I’ll see if Bertie’s person’s got something for me. He hasn’t, but he gives me his hands to sniff. Then he strokes me. That’s nice. I wag my tail at him. Human almost falls flat. Must be the frost.

What shall I do next?

I could hunt. Which would give human the chance to show one of her favourite videos of me.

 

 

 

 

But what I really want to do is run. And dance. And run and run and run.

 

 

 

 

And stay in the park all day long.

 

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, Kings Heath Park, relationship building, running, running running | Tagged , | Leave a comment

♥

Posted on January 22, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Sunday January 22nd 2017

 

I still get a huge kick out of every one of Hairy One’s tail wags. Whether it’s a greeting or a response to my patting her, her wagging tail feels like a wonderful gift. I guess it’s because it took so long to happen.

Usually, when I have been out and return home, by the time I come in from the porch, Isis has already picked up my scent and emerges from the back room, waving her tail. When I touch her, the waves immediately become wags. With light cuddles, pats or kisses, the wagging increases in intensity. I know my chest is expanding with ownerly pride, and a huge smile is spreading across my face. If I am sensible and don’t overdo it, she doesn’t complain. When she’s had enough, she just wanders off.

Now, too, when Ji. comes and she has checked him out, she will receive a pat or two from him and will reward him, too, with a wag.

She is still very stand-offish with other people in the park, even those with whom she is familiar. She doesn’t wag at kind people who offer her treats, even when she accepts them.  She meets Bev., for example, most week days, and happily crunches up the proffered treats. Even so, Bev. has to work very hard indeed for the privilege of giving Hairy One’s back a friendly ruffle. And a reciprocal wag is virtually unheard of.

Meanwhile, at home, the wag opportunities gradually increase. This week, for some reason known only to her, Isis changes her bedtime habit. Usually, if she comes up after me, she snuffles her way to the end of the bed and then immediately pops up and settles on her sheet.

Now she remains downstairs until I am in bed, walks into the room, turns round and walks along the edge of the bed towards me. I hold my hand out for her to sniff. Wag. Wag. Then I smooth her ears and pat her gently on her back. Wag, wag, wag. Then she makes her way to her snoozery.

I am almost sure that the very first time Isis wagged her tail was when she woke in the morning. This is still the time when her wags are at their most vigorous and last the longest. And there are more wags, excited ones now, when she feels her collar being placed round her neck.

We’ll share another lovely moment.

Even at her most relaxed, Isis has never rolled over onto her back. I guess this is very difficult to do when you are tied up, but suspect that is not the whole story. An animal, of course, is at its most vulnerable when lying on its back: in that position a small hairy animal with its paws in the air and its stomach exposed, is an open invitation to a predator.

One morning, about a year ago, I think, I lightly stroked Hairy One’s flank as she lay sleepily on the bed. To my delight, she stretched the leg out in a leisurely fashion. The more I stroked (within reason, of course – one mustn’t take liberties with Isis) the further she stretched the leg.

I continue to stroke her flank in the mornings, and, lo and behold, one day, as I stroke, she lifts her leg a millimetre or so above her sheet.

Wow! I am enchanted.

Slowly, slowly, the millimetre increases to two, then three millimetres. I risk a few very, very light belly strokes.

Then, one day this week, I stroke her flank as usual. To my amazement, she lifts her leg up in the air. She doesn’t roll over completely, but she twists her lower half until it’s almost flat on the sheet, and presents an undefended belly. She remains in this position for at least a minute, allowing me to stroke her previously so well defended underparts.

I’m amazed. And very humbled.

One day, I tell myself, she  may even roll over.

 

 

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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 , , , , | 6 Comments

spinning, spinning

Posted on January 18, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Wednesday January 18th 2017

 

Well, as we know, Isis continues to spin. Which is all right. Mostly. However fast she spins, she doesn’t appear to suffer from giddiness. Do dogs suffer from giddiness? Or is she unaffected because she can’t see the scenery whizzing past her? Who knows.

Hairy One’s spinning worries Polymath. Well, not the spinning per se, but the tooth clacking which accompanies it. She opines frequently and vociferously that poor Isis will have no teeth left by the time she’s middle-aged.

And I have to admit, there is cause for concern. Her bottom teeth, in particular, are very worn down.

With this in mind, and much prompting from Polymath, I bring up the problem when we go to RSPCA Newbrook Farm for our monthly anal gland emptying (I use the ‘royal we’ here, you understand).

The nice young vet, who hasn’t realised that Isis is blind, examines her eyes with great interest. I voice my concerns about the spinning and the worn down teeth, and explain that I used to worry that Isis’s strange routines might indicate brain damage, but now think that the fact that she almost certainly spent her early years tied up is a more likely explanation for her strange routines.

I gently lift Hairy One’s lips and reveal her diminishing teeth. The vet seems quite intrigued. She tells me that she knows two dogs who do the spinning thing: although neither have sensory impairment,  one has a history of restraint and sensory deprivation similar to Hairy One’s, while the other has significant liver damage.

She suggests having Isis in for a couple of days so that her behaviour can be observed, but I am not keen. I think that her behaviour, short-term and in such a different environment, is unlikely to yield much insight into causality. And since she generally seems to be a happy little dog, I am very reluctant to put her through the experience. I do, however, agree for a blood test to be done to check out her liver condition.

Fortunately, no anomalies show up.

When we discuss the results over the phone, two suggestions are made: a more detailed blood test could be done and/or she could be referred to an animal behaviourist.

My gut feeling is that, like many maladjusted children, her ‘strange’ behaviour is consistent with a reasonable adaptation to the unreasonable situation she found herself in.

She spins much more when freed from her lead and left to her own devices than she does  on her extended lead, though when there are no other dogs or people in the vicinity, she is noticeably more adventurous, and is expanding her personal space all the time. She seems very keen to be released in her park spaces and always wags when I detach the lead from her harness, but she seems equally pleased when I re-attach her.

I have to admit that being able to release Isis is great for me, too. I have missed the park news exchanged on the old bowling green. Previously, it was only possible to chat to park mates when we were short-lead walking, as Isis zooming around on her extended lead among other beings could be lethal.

Since she was allowed off-lead in the parks, she has lost her interest in stick chewing and balls on strings, but today, while free, she begins playing with sticks again. I think it’s a good idea to play with her more when she’s free, perhaps make some mini treat trails, and try to get her interested in outdoor toys again, in order to present her with alternatives to spinning.

All in all, unless Isis becomes unwell  or distressed, I’m inclined to avoid any medical interventions. She is increasingly more confident and happy. She seems to reveal a little more about herself every day, and I’m sure that she has huge unexplored potential for learning.

 

 

 

 

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, strange behaviour, twirling | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

she’s looking for you!

Posted on January 15, 2017 by patinkingsheath

 

 

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

 

Sunday January 15th 2017

 

Isis enjoys increasingly longer periods of freedom in both Kings Heath and Highbury Park. I recall that twice, a few weeks ago, she came to find me when she appeared to have lost her bearings.

This week she doesn’t lose her bearings.

On two consecutive days Bev. is the first to notice that Isis is carefully sniffing and looping her way towards me from the opposite side of the old bowling green. “She’s ‘looking’ for you,” Bev. alerts me.

Hairy One approaches and I lean forward to place a hand on her back. She wags her tail and then makes her way back to a dancing space.

Several days this week, in Highbury, I set her free in an area with which she is familiar, and she selects her own play space. I notice that she is widening her parameters. She doesn’t trot off in one direction, as she did once or twice when we first experimented with off lead time, but the circumferences of her play areas are expanding. On one occasion she elects to play for about fifteen minutes behind a large holly bush.

Fortunately, being mostly white, she is easily monitored. At one point, she ventures a little further than I feel is safe. I am just about to fetch her when she seems to feel she’s overstepping the mark, and retraces her footsteps.

Both dogs and their owners stop to stare at the flying apparition. Quite a few dogs keep their distance; others take a chance and approach to within a metre or so. Some come up and sniff her.

Sometimes it is necessary to rescue her from very young puppies. On Thursday little Pixie rushes up and leaps on her. But Isis deals with her very effectively. “Woof! Woof!, she orders, and off Pixie runs.

As we know, dogs are clever beings, and it is very rare for an adult dog to harass her. Soon after she has seen off Pixie, Archie arrives. He is a huge, full on, adolescent standard poodle and he races up to her with his usual enthusiasm. But he virtually skids to a halt in front of her, and gently sniffs her nose before leaping off to play with another friend.

We are all very impressed, not least Archie’s lovely owners.

 

 

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At home, we begin our efforts to get Isis to make her way down the stairs supported, but not carried.

This is prompted by one of my more dramatic trips.

It’s Wednesday and Isis and I are on the steep bank by the hedge which divides the old bowling green from the level above. Having four sturdy little legs, Isis is fine. For bipeds, however, steep banks wet with melted snow are not the best places to frolic. I’ve just put Isis back on her lead and am about to walk her down the slope when, swoosh, THUMP! I stride into a patch of exceptionally sticky mud and land a metre further on in a tangled heap. There are so many hot flashes of pain shooting up and down my body that I need to lie dead still for about a minute in order to ascertain which bits still work. Fortunately, there is no one else around yet to witness my downfall, and I soon ascertain that everything is still working.

I have been amazingly lucky. But what if I’d broken something and could no longer carry Isis downstairs?

On Saturday, I wrap Hairy One in a padded harness, and, grasping it firmly, manoeuvre her onto the stairs. She’s petrified, poor little thing. But we persevere. She is still very frightened when we reach the bottom step. Although she recovers as soon as she reaches terra firma, this approach, clearly, will not do.

We must, as Polymath has suggested, tackle the training in very small chunks. Today I carry Isis downstairs as usual until we reach the penultimate step. Then I set her down gently. She freezes in horror. I carefully ease her down onto the hall floor.

We’ll do only one step each morning until she relaxes, I decide.

This is definitely going to be a very long haul.

 

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, dear little Isis, Highbury Park, Kings Heath Park, running, training, walking in the park, walking my deaf/blind dog | Tagged , | 4 Comments