Wednesday

Wednesday

Had a bit of a mixed day today. Mum was sufficiently asleep yesterday evening for me to feel comfortable that she’d be totally unresponsive today so I gave myself the day off. Lesley had had another long day with her dad yesterday and she gave herself the day off too.

All good.

So far.

Come to think of it, Lesley’s dad has had a run of good days. He seems not to have been dogged by any worsening physical difficulties and his befuddlement hasn’t been that bad either. He’s got his first trip to the Memory Clinic on Friday so that they can do a proper assessment of his dementia. The fact that the appointment being at a hospital means he’s convinced himself that it must be for another x-ray might be a clue to how that will go.

So the Day Off started with The Dog refusing breakfast. That never happens. She’d been a bit subdued recently – less bouncy than normal and stiff and sore after exercise – but had been more like her usual self yesterday. It felt too early to worry and she seemed keen enough to go for a walk this morning so we headed off and let her choose the route. She headed to The Brook for a swim. On the way, we met our postman and he was ready with a couple of large treats in his pocket. The Dog ran towards him and sat perfectly for her reward.

All good.

So far.

After her swim The Dog goes back on the lead and she likes to bring a stick away from the trees lining The Brookout into the field and chew it for a bit in the sunshine while rests and recovers. But we were followed out of the trees by a lady walking a poodle cross and she walked straight towards us. Frantic calls of “Can you keep your dog away please!! Ours doesn’t like dogs coming at her!!” were ignored. When the poodle cross came within range The Dog launched herself at it and the wet lead slipped through my hands. There was a lot of noise and The Dog’s intention is to make the other dog go away. It didn’t. It just fell over and shrieked. Now, The Dog is a bit of a unit and we’ve seen her run through a group of other dogs scattering them like nine-pins but even so, this poodle cross was every bit as much of a powder-puff as it looked.

Having satisfied ourselves that no real harm had come to either dog Lesley said

“We told you not to approach our dog. Why did you keep coming towards us?”

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.” the lady replied, taking out her ear buds.

I only hope that whatever she was listening to was more important than keeping her dog safe.

It took the shine off the walk completely. It’s been months since The Dog has behaved like that. I tried to view this as a individual lapse rather than a complete relapse. I learned to accept that my recovery from depression wouldn’t be positive every day. That there would be the occasional mis-step among the steps forward. All I have to do is convince Lesley of that.