Quarantine, Sheltering in Place, Lockdown – no matter what you call it, being stuck at home can be challenging.

Grenada went into total lockdown on March 30^th. No one was allowed off their property unless it was a medical emergency or to get food from a local vendor. Gas stations were closed. Both the banks and ATM’s were shuttered. No alcohol was sold anywhere, not even at the local shops, which could be open for a few hours, a couple of days a week.

All supermarkets were closed, and no movement between parishes was allowed.  Everything possible was done to keep people home and not be enticed to break the 24 hour a day curfew. You could not even visit your next-door neighbor. Police were positioned throughout the island and stopped every person.  They gave fines and or arrested anyone who did not have special permission to be on the road.

I’m the first to admit, that excluding the craziness I experienced as our house tried to self-destruct over the last two months (see posts Holding Down the Fort Part 1 and Part 2) sheltering in place at our home in Grenada has been pretty easy.  We have a large house with lots of space.  I’ve got good enough internet to stay connected to the world and can access books, online courses, news, and social media. The weather has been glorious.  Rain would have been helpful for the plants but seeing sunshine daily and overlooking a beautiful bay is easy on my eyes and spirit. I have a swimming pool. I have plenty of food, wine, and a vegetable garden producing tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, celery, eggplant, and onions. So, while it would be nice to get out, it wasn’t a burden for me to stay home.

It was a vastly different experience for Red Dog, our 2-year-old Irish Setter. Red Dog loves activity, and the lockdown affected everything he loves. There were no walks, no car rides, no workers coming in and out, no visitors, and no one walking by the house to bark at.

Nothing happening at all.

(Also see, Sounds of Silence)

I look at his sad face and think about one of my yoga teacher’s favorite saying to get us to experience the present moment. She says, “Nowhere to be, nowhere to go.”  My sullen dog is really feeling that and doesn’t like it, one bit.

Red Dog has been glued to my side since Michael left on March 20^th.  Somehow, one of us had escaped, and he wasn’t going to let me sneak away. Red Dog literally followed me from room to room every time I moved.  I tried convincing him if I was just getting a glass of water, that he could stay near my computer for 1 minute and I’d be back. But no, he had to haul himself up each and every time to be sure I wasn’t going somewhere or doing something interesting. Doing anything interesting. And then, doing anything at all?

Finally, Red Dog reluctantly accepted the new normal.  For the first time in a month, he did not even lift his head when I walked by because he had resigned himself that I was not going ANYWHERE.  He looked apathetic and glum – poor pup.

We were not allowed to leave our property, so no walks anywhere at any time.  We were doing some playing in the living room, and I made a big deal of walking up and down the driveway. Woo-Hoo! Red Dog would look at me as if – ‘That’s it?’

I wish that I had thought to buy some meat bones for Red Dog to chew on before this lockdown occurred.  Oh well, my arm will just have to do as a chew toy. He’s trying to be good, but he is bored and frustrated.

Red Dog has worked hard to keep himself occupied.

He runs in circles in our living room and patio dragging a stuffed animal or flipping a rawhide chew.

He dug up our new pineapple plants, trying to get the snake that was living in the garden.  I moved the plants, and he dug them up again.  I finally gave up and planted them in pots.

 

 He has caught and killed three iguanas, bringing them into the house because, why not?

(See the post Holding Down the Fort, part 1 for iguana pictures)

He is currently obsessing over a Manicou (possum) that has been walking along our backyard fence every night around 7:30. It’s pitch black behind our house so he must smell it.  He’ll leap up from a dead sleep and rush to the back of our patio.  He paces and huffs.  At first, I thought it might be a neighbor’s cat strolling through the yard. Once we got out the flashlight, we saw the Manicou.

Sheila thinks the Manicou is coming onto the property to eat the papayas.  It must have a regular routine because it passes through about the same time every night.  Red Dog has figured out the schedule, and now he paces along the back of the patio every night waiting for the Manicou to arrive.  He’s vigilant but calm until he suddenly explodes with energy, racing back and forth.

Normally, he can go behind our house and could get really close to the Manicou, but I’ve been locking the back gate in the late afternoon.  Manicou have sharp teeth, are fast, and they viciously protect themselves.  I don’t want Red Dog to get hurt, and although I know he is also fast, this is not an altercation that I want to have to break up.

Right before Grenada began opening back up, I needed to go to the doctor.  I got special permission to travel and left Red Dog at home because I didn’t know how long I’d be gone and didn’t want to leave him in the car too long. As I left, he was standing at the gate howling, downright indignant that he couldn’t join me after weeks and weeks of absolutely no activity.  I felt horrible.  When I got back, the shadowing began in earnest. Now I couldn’t even walk from one side of the room to the other without my red shadow. He was NOT going to let me pull a fast one again.

When Grenada opened back up – three days a week during daylight hours, Red Dog was thrilled.  He could bark at cars and people going by, he could go for walks, workmen started showing up, and he got petted and scratched. I even drove him around the neighborhood in the car a few times just so he could put his nose in the air as we whizzed by our local streets. Then Nadica and Sheila showed up, and he was in heaven.  Now he had a bunch of people to follow around, and people were actually doing things!

The animal massacres have ended, and he is a much happier dog. On the rare occasion when I must go out and can’t take him in the car, he’s not happy, but he’s got company, so he’s okay.

He’s still pretty vigilant.

Although he is not plastered to my side, he positions himself so he can simultaneously see all entrances and exits – the front door, the kitchen (where I keep my keys), the entry to the office, and the patio. There will be NO sneaking out!

Red Dog knows I go to yoga in the morning, and he still tries to sneak out to block the car, but he’s figured out that I’ll be back shortly and mostly just looks despondent when I grab my keys.  He knows there are car rides and walks on the beach in his future.

Finally, he has something to do besides running in circles, with nowhere to go.