Showing posts with label lost dog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lost dog. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25, 2022

15 Years Ago - Rosie & Pearlie Got Sore Paws

Between one thing and another Bert has had a tough week. There has been a lot going on with Pearlie (she broke her wrist) and we’ve been trying to get more help from social services. On Friday, between arranging to take Pearlie to A&E and meeting with her social worker, those dirty, rotten, scunging devil-dogs gave him the slip for the first time in a fortnight. We do try to keep them from running off but they know when we’re distracted and pick their moment well.


About three hours into his hospital sit, Bert got a phone call from Alber’,

Your Paddy is running about the Lisnahuncheon Road and he’s that black with glaar you’d hardly know it was him!

There was nothing Bert could do until he got home. He went out as soon as he’d eaten and managed to gather Paddy up but Rosie was nowhere to be seen.

Paddy was in a really funny mood. He didn’t want to get into the van and when I got a hold of him he pissed himself.
We waited patiently for Rosie to return. Bert had to go out and at 8pm I set off to look for her. Up the Loan Hill, Killyless Road, Lisnahuncheon – I called for her until I was hoarse but no Rosie.

When Bert got back he went out too but wasn’t able to find her either. I was really worried thinking that she might have been hurt, or shot, maybe put her shoulder out again – something must have happened to her.

Next morning I was out again, mainly checking the roads in case she’d been hit by a car. I brought an old towel with me to wrap her in if I found her body.

At 8.30am Bert went out. Fifteen minutes later I heard him coming back. I knew he’d found her but whether dead or alive I didn’t know. But as soon as I saw him get out of the car and head for the boot I knew she was alive. His body language told me.

The poor bedraggled thing had caught her front paw in a snare and had lay in a hedge the entire night. Bert returned to the place where he’d found Paddy, walked into a field and went straight to her. He said she wagged her wet, scraggy tail when she saw him. In took a while to get the snare off but amazingly her leg wasn’t too badly hurt at all. It was swollen but started going down within an hour. She had a feed, a big drink of water and jumped on to the sofa for a serious wound-licking session. Then she slept for the rest of the day.

She’s still resting today and has only chased the cat a couple of times.

And what of Pearlie? She’s enjoying a week’s stay in residential care. She could only get a week, and so far she says it’s not too bad. She says the food is ‘alright’, the other women are ‘a bit odd’ and there’s a man she’s got her eye on. She asked Bert if he’d mind her taking up with a boy and he said he wouldn’t as long as he was a decent sort of a boy.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Bert to the Rescue

I’m not the only one who has been working flat out recently. For Bert attending ‘Gorgeous’ Gage is a full-time job (and then some). After all a man who can get stressed out by a few clematis growing too fast or a touch of red spider mite is a man who will be stressed to the max by shovel work and the necessity of keeping Gorgeous supplied with specialised plant from the ‘Hire It’ shop. The poor soul has been coming home completely exhausted. Last night was no exception. So it was only to be expected that he failed to do an accurate head count of the livestock at bedtime. He just assumed Paddy would be cosily curled up in my bed, as that is where Paddy usually is after 9pm. This morning whilst at work I received this phone call.
So that’s where you’re at. Where else would I be? Do you know where Paddy is? What! How should I know where Paddy is? Isn’t he with you? What’s wrong? He’s not in the house or the yard or anywhere. I’ve looked everywhere. He’s not lying dead anywhere. What! Dead! Find him! I can’t! I’ve got the digger man here in 10 minutes. What’s more important? The dog or the digger man? Find Paddy!
Distraught I slam down the phone. Fifteen minutes later Bert phoned back.
Well it’s all right. I’ve found him. Where was he? He was in the field in front of the house. He was just sitting there with his head stuck in a yellow bucket. He didn’t know where he was. I think he’d been sitting there all night. He couldn’t find his way home. Oh God! The poor thing. Is he OK? He’s a bit quiet on it. Give him a big kiss and hug from me. I can’t. He boked in the bucket. He’s stinking of vomit. Oh wash it off and kiss him anyway. Yeah. Sure.
Poor Paddy. He has been very stressed all day. But he cheered up to no end when HANNAH CAME HOME!