Companion Calamities

It's been fifteen years since my dog passed away from old age, but I still have the memories.

In 1993, my Aunt's Border Collie, Aurora, was pregnant, and she offered us first pick of the litter, once they were weaned. We also got to stay up late one weekend while they were born, but our parents hauled us home at around midnight.

About three weeks after that, we got to come pick the puppy we wanted. My Aunt had continued the mythology theme for names, so we had the choice of Ulysses, Pandora, Isis, Hercules, Shiva and Odin. My twin and I were just nerdy enough to be superstitious of being gifted Pandora, and I was on an Egyptian research binge at the time, so we chose Isis.

Three weeks later, we got to bring Isis home.

The thing a lot of people don't know about puppies? They get Separation Anxiety and suffer from loneliness, just like kids going to daycare for the first time. Border Collies in particular are smart, solution-oriented dogs, even the puppies.

We'd set up Isis's bed in the laundry, but after about an hour of crying for her siblings, she figured out the sliding door, and went looking for company.

My bedroom was in what had been the Granny Flat, while the other four were upstairs. So, Isis moved into my room until she could be toilet trained and sleep alone.

That was an interesting few months.

Isis woke up with the dawn, and jumped on my bed to lick me awake. Morning snuggles were nice, but I resented not being allowed to sleep in during the school holidays. Navigating the floor was also a very unique obstacle course, until Isis learned to use the newspaper. I still have something approaching a sixth sense for small things that it will not be pleasant to step on.

On the bright side, I've never once stepped on LEGO in bare feet, either...

I was a fan of the Famous Five books, by Enid Blyton, and we quickly taught Isis how to shake paws. She also learned how to play 'goalie', thanks to a convenient pot plant next to the pool controls. Any ball that rolled past that area was energetically charged and headbutted away.

We also discovered that herding instincts run strong, even if the dog in question has never seen a sheep in their life.

Border Collies are active dogs, so we'd take Isis on runs around the block, or the nearby parks, where she could burn off energy chasing sticks, balls and frisbees. We just had to keep out of her line of sight when playing tag or running, and to make sure we stayed on soft grass, or risk being sent arse over teakettle when a black-and-white blur suddenly shot in front of us. Isis knew not to nip, but she had very definite ideas of how far away was too far.

That applied to the River we went camping near, too. It was wide enough, with a strong enough current, that swimming across was a bigger endeavor than I ever managed. The first time we took Isis camping, we expected her to entertain herself on the shore while we swam as far as we could. There was a convenient underwater rock about a third of the way across, which made a convenient rest point before turning back.

Cue a brief moment of panic when Isis was nowhere to be seen on the sane where we left her.

Instead, there was a little black-and-white head bobbing on the river waves, doggy-paddling determinedly toward us. We rested a bit longer while Isis recovered, then swam back, and made sure to keep one person on the shore for the rest of the trip.

Isis pooped sand for a week after we got back home, but enjoyed camping as much as we did.

Border Collie jumping instincts, made for clearing rocks and other obstacles in pursuit of runaway animals, also ran strong, and much like her Goddess namesake, Isis considered failure to be a thing that happened to other, less motivated dogs.

We'd taken to putting up baby-proof doors to keep Isis in the kitchen while vacuuming or doing laundry.

My younger sister was terrified of the vacuum cleaner, which made it Public Enemy #1 as far as Isis was concerned, and until my Mum upgraded to a cordless a few years back, our poor vacuum bore the bite scars to prove it...

Isis also loved lying on still-warm, freshly-ironed clothing. Mum, understandably, was less of a fan of this behaviour.

It took a few months, but Isis quickly figured how much speed and momentum was needed to clear the baby gates in a single bound. The rest of us were notified via Mum's frustrated yell when a shedding puppy landed right in the laundry basket of clean clothes that she'd just finished folding.

Isis lived to 15, before dying in 2008. I was living in an apartment then, which wasn't particularly dog-friendly, and by the time I moved out to a house with a decent backyard, I was dating someone who was allergic to dander.

It's ok, a lot of my friends and some of my work clients have dogs, and I can shower them with all of my pet-love, instead.

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