Tag Archives: Rosa

Pawshank or Pupillon?

We are attempting a new regime for Pod and Rosa.  Not really through choice, but due to a traumatic event a couple of weeks ago.

Rosa and Pod on look-out duty
Rosa and Pod on look-out duty

Rosa and Pod have been more or less free to roam since they came to adopt us.  We’ve fitted a tracker to Pod (Rosa wasn’t keen!) and we can see where he travels most of the time.  Some days they would disappear for hours at a time – and they have occasionally stayed out all night.  We believe that they enjoy this freedom as well as enjoying going out with us.  We also recognise that there are risks attached to letting them roam.  Unfortunately for Rosa one of those risks hit hard a couple of weeks ago.

Rosa and Pod returned as usual after a couple of hours exploring.  They hungrily ate their food and settled down for a sleep.  Suddenly, Rosa got up and Mark did too as he realised there was something wrong with her.  We had heard of a dog in the valley who had ingested poison (from an unknown source) and had sadly died – Mark immediately guessed that this had happened to Rosa.  She was sick and then started having dreadful spasms.  We phoned the vet, bundled Pod into the car and I strapped myself in to the back of the car and held Rosa in my arms as Mark flew down the motorway to Turre.  Neither of us thought she would make it that far.  She had convulsion after convulsion in the car and I thought I would be taking a dead dog through the door of the vets.

We could tell that Ellen, the vet, was not very hopeful – but she acted so swiftly that Rosa did survive.   Pod was fine – Ellen checked him over and gave him the all-clear.  Ellen took Rosa home with her that night and we picked her up the next day to discover that she had rallied remarkably well.  She had a course of Vitamin K and we walked her on the lead for a week to prevent her injuring herself (we had to watch for bleeding or any risk of it).  She was soon back to full health and (of course) very keen to resume her roaming life.

We decided to build an enclosure for them and only let them out when we could go out with them.

Jonny (my daughter Anna’s boyfriend) came out to help Mark to create the dog euro (geddit?) and the two of them worked incredibly hard to build a safe outside garden area that could be accessed from the terrace and the back of the house.

It sort of works…

We haven’t yet made it escape proof – Pod has found his way out a few times – but it’s a start.

We now take them out for a walk morning and evening well away from any kind of habitation , and well away from the hunting grounds where we suspect the poison was (illegally) laid.  They don’t always come back home with us, so it’s not the perfect solution, but it’s the best compromise we can come up with.

So, suggestions for names for their new compound most welcome:

So far, Pawshank and Pupillon are the front runners.

The new enclosure
The new enclosure



This is Pod (short for Podenko).  He was contemplating climbing in when I took this photo.

I think he’s likely to be a new member of the pack.  We’ve given him some food and he’s looking a bit perkier now.

He’s quite nervous, but hunger or curiosity (or both) brings him to take a peek at us through the bedroom window:

Rosa has accepted him – albeit a little reluctantly – as a new member of the pack.

We went for a walk together – Rosa, Pod and “River” (the gentleman caller from across the valley) – and they all got along quite well.

I thought Pod had caught a rabbit earlier today, but it turned out that he’d picked up a koala bear toy that Rosa had been playing with.

The stray who came to stay


We have a dog.

We didn’t intend to have a dog.

I went for a walk early one morning last July.  It’s so hot here in July and August that early morning is really the only time I can summon up the energy to do more than potter about.  If I walk on the track, I have to walk past the farm next door.  He has a couple of dogs who spend most of their lives in a pen – and who bark furiously at passers by.   As I made the return journey, I heard the patter of tiny feet.  Except they didn’t really sound tiny, and they were pattering rather fast in my direction.   Continue reading The stray who came to stay