How to Rescue a Cocker Spaniel Puppy Thats Fallen Off a Balcony

How to rescue a cocker spaniel puppy thats fallen off a balcony

Now this one is as the title implies is a simple guide on how to rescue a beautiful little cocker spaniel called Rio, he was fourteen weeks old when this happened and, I am happy to say has never done it again.

Although having said that, he never attempted to go up or down stairs from that day until recently lured by one of the twins with some ham flavoured crisps.

Husband was away working for three weeks so the children and I were left to our own devices in the house we lived in that was half a mile up a horrible rough track.  We did have electricity but couldn’t get internet due to a big mountain being in the way, this mountain also meant we couldn’t get a mobile signal, nor a telephone line as we were too far in the campo (countryside in Spanish).  So basically once you were in the house that was it.

The simple rule that I made for us was DO NOT EVER HAVE AN EMERGENCY. 

 The house was ok apart from the wild dogs that lived on the mountain and the black mould that grew on every surface if you didn’t wipe it every 24 hours. Plus a few (hundred) other little problems, but hey, I was in the south of Spain and couldn’t complain.

The house was literally built into the side of a mountain with big concrete posts holding it up.  It was fairly typical of new build houses in the area and had a lovely big outside terrace with those nice white pillars – the other side of those nice white pillars was a drop of about 25 feet down onto the side of a very steep mountain.  When we first moved in it used to make me feel sick looking out from the balcony but you do get used to it.

Now my lovely little Rio used the terrace as his exercise area as I couldn’t let him out the other side due to the horrible wild dogs.

I’d put him out and shut the patio doors whilst I washed the floors etc.,  he’d spent plenty of time out on the balcony prior to this day and had never shown any inclination towards the edge.

You know when you get that horrible feeling and go to check and you were right moments, well this was one of those moments and yes, he had disappeared and my heart nearly stopped because I couldn’t hear him either so assumed the worst.  After a bit of scrutinising and calling, I spotted him sitting about forty feet down the mountainside, I called him and he started whining and waggling his tail and running in circles.  That was a good sign as I knew he wasn’t injured.  I kept calling and moving along the balcony thinking he’d simply follow me along and make his way up the one little track that went around the mountainside and up to the other side of the house.

By this time my twins who had just turned five were there to help. Always useful.  They never fail to amaze me how they can be doing something nice and quietly in a different room and then when you really need some peace to work something out they are right there. Bless them. Lots of shouting and calling and walking backwards and forwards were getting us nowhere.  Rio is now becoming panic stricken because he can’t get up, it’s starting to get dark and there are no streetlights up this mountain.

After an hour of getting nowhere, I decided I would get my husbands climbing gear, or at least a rope, tie it to myself and then to the balcony and do a kind of abseil down the mountain and rescue Rio.  Whilst I was trying to find the rope, I had a freak mobile signal and Husband was on the phone from the UK.  I told him of my current rescue mission and he had a major shout and said that no way was I to try climbing down the mountain in the dark with two little children at the top.  I thought about it for a moment then decided he was actually probably maybe right and aborted that mission.

I am not known for my climbing and abseiling abilities at the best of times.

Sally our Labrador is a true pig.  She will do anything to get her hands on food of any description.  Although she had been on the balcony with Rio when he had his fall, there was no barking or whining or any indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened.  Suddenly seeing before me a dog that is supposedly very intelligent (they train them as guide dogs after all), coupled with her food obsession, a new idea formed.  This was her chance to shine.  She is very attached to my husband and he can do anything with her – alas her obedience ability is limited to just ‘sit’.

I’d cooked a load of vege sausages for dinner and devised a cunning plan of chopping them into little pieces, letting Sally get a whiff and then throwing them from the top down the narrow track around the circumference of the mountain until she reached Rio and then she could lead him back to safety.  Easy.  So followed by my little helpers and Sally we marched out the front door and around to the end of the track.  I threw piece after piece down the track then moved around the top of the ridge  and kept throwing pieces of sausage – the plan was kind of working and she was moving in the right direction.  Sally the pig lived up to her nickname and scoffed every piece of sausage I could throw.  She did look a bit confused as to why she was being given this brilliant new sausage chasing activity but soon got into the swing of it.  At the same time I was calling Rio and hoping he’d hear me from a different direction and work his way along – surely he could hear and smell Sally and surely Sally would realise it was a puppy in danger.

Obviously not.  The sausages ran out and Sally got distracted by a leaf blowing in the wind in the other direction that needed seriously barking at.  After a bit of leaf barking she disappeared off to the complete other side of the mountain because she had learnt on one of our walks that an olive grove farmer sometimes left what looked like scrambled eggs on the ground  - presumably for the wild dogs.  As soon as it got dark every night, she tried to sneak off for an hour to hunt the eggs.

We were back to square one.  It was by now twilight and I was running out of ideas.

I decided that as I had got a random mobile signal earlier, maybe it would happen again and I could ring someone to help.  I went in to get the phone and the rope and a torch, just in case.

My little daughter was getting upset about Rio not being able to find his way back up and I said to both of them to think of an idea to rescue him. 

After a few minutes she said ‘I know, Spot told me’ picked our cat (Spot) up and threw him over the balcony before I could shout no.  Rushing back to the edge I peered into the darkness and saw Spot (who was not injured in any way during this rescue) making his way over to Rio.  He rubbed himself over and around the puppy then literally walked him up and along the track.  It was unbelievable.  They were both safe.

Rio was ecstatic to be back up to the safety of his home and never ever went near the edge of the balcony again, Spot was rewarded with some nice fresh salmon and Sally, well she didn’t get anything because: a) she was the other side of the mountain scoffing scrambled egg and b) she’d eaten our dinner and done absolutely nothing to aid the rescue.

Now I would never advocate throwing a cat over a balcony, would never have thought it would have worked but my little girl was so sure and confident in the cats ability to rescue that I wonder whether cats would make more adept guide/rescue dogs than Labradors.  Just a thought and only speaking from personal experience.   

Nearly a year on and we still frequently relive the great rescue and I swear that cat knew what he was doing.   

Sadly Spot got sick and died by the swimming pool a few months ago but we’ll always remember him as Spot the Guide Cat.

A Spanish Job Interview

A Spanish Job Interview

Well this has been an interesting week in an interview learning curve kind of way.  

This is how it all happened:

I recently saw a job advertised teaching English in a Spanish school.  As the paper I read it in was a couple of weeks old, I sent a text asking if the vacancy was still open.  I did get a reply saying they had filled the position.

A few days later on a Sunday evening, I received a message asking me to ring the school about a vacancy.  I phoned and was told a vacancy was coming up and could I send in my cv – I duly did.  Having received the said CV, the lady phoned and asked if I could call in for an interview at 9.45am the following morning.  Not convenient at all as we had a couple of things to do, but the chance of paid work with a contract is so slim for  English people in Spain I duly juggled everything around for the next day.

She was very precise about the time so I arrived nice and early and sat waiting in the main office reception.  Ten minutes passed and I still sat waiting, knowing it was now 9.45. 

Now in my usual fashion, although I had asked the lady her name and she had repeated it a few times, I simply could not remember it.  Blank.  Luckily I have a phone with internet so I phoned her mobile, sent a text and an email explaining that I was in the building and waiting in reception.

There are five offices leading off the main reception, all with people working in them.  I’d done my best asking for directions as to where exactly I should be at 9.45 and thought by saying Ingles a few times plus a bit of translating on google, they’d get the message. 

I’ve discovered  a typical Spanish trait seems to be a shrugging of shoulders, holding arms out and kind of emitting a sigh whilst shaking head.  

So I gave up and thought the lady would turn up when she was ready - surely a lost looking person sitting in reception in view of these offices would eventually get someone to notice me and do something or at least ask why I was loitering.

So – best course of action – sit down, get the novel out that I don’t seem to have time to read at the moment and get on with it.  Just wait.

At 10.15 I was starting to get a bit annoyed that I was still sitting there, not angry, just peed off that I was still waiting and my husband and 5 year old twins were sitting outside in the car. My lovely husband isn’t known for his patience.

10.20am and in comes a very severe looking Spanish lady of about 25, kind of gothic looking.  She introduced herself and I said ‘did I get the time wrong’, to which she replied No.

We went through the interview routine and she said that she wanted to put me on the supply teacher list and that she’d contact me at the end of the week as the vacancy she needed filling was very soon.  She wouldn’t be drawn into how much per hour or exactly how many hours but did say it would be part time.  So I left, feeling a bit cheated because the interview was something and nothing, the organisation seemed to be completely lacking and she seemed so vague.

By Friday I’d heard nothing so just put it out of my mind.

On Sunday evening I got a message asking me to attend at 9.30am the following morning for another interview and could I start at 1pm on the same day.  Again, we reorganised the next day and set off through the freak rain storm that had arrived.  I waited for only twenty minutes this time, then we had another chat and she showed me the staff room, was given all the teacher books and class lists and finally got down to discussing a contract. 

I asked how many hours she wanted me for, part time to me being about 16 hours a week minimum.  She then explained that due to a big reorganisation in the school over the last few weeks, four teachers had walked out and left them in the lurch.  She then said that she wanted me for two hours a day for four days.  Eight hours.  She’d pay 10 euros per hour cash for the first two weeks, then go on to contract where I would receive a take home pay of 6.33 per hour.  Oh and that the contract would run from November to May. Oh and she expected me to sign to say I would stay for five years.  And would I like the job?  Now my gut instincts were ‘no thanks, it will actually cost me money to run back and forward to the school – more than I would be earning’, but I said  Yes, though today would be a tricky day for me to start.  She said she’d already got cover for today if need be.

I left the school, got back in the car and relayed the conversation to my husband.  We both instantly agreed that it was absolutely not worth doing the job and if four people had just walked out there was probably good reason. 

As soon as I got home – about twenty minutes later, i sent a message saying that thanks but no thanks and I’d drop the books back into the school.

Quarter past one and  I get a very angry Spanish lady saying I had said yes to the job and I should be there and she would now have to take the lessons.

As we had to go back out to pick up the finally repaired gearbox for our nightmare cheap runaround, we decided to drop the books straight back over to the school, another twenty minute drive.  I felt a bit horrid as she’d been rude but thought that if I took the books up to the main office area, I could do a quick dump and run then text her in her lesson that she had to cover and she could go down and collect them.

No such luck.  

I arrived in the main office to find her sitting in one of the rooms.  Now as she had made such a fuss about having to cover the lessons I was rather surprised to see her right in front of me.  

Wow, can Spanish people go for it!  I felt about ten years old with her ranting and raving. She said that people in Spain would die to have a job like this.   I  tried to explain my reasoning and that maybe English people wouldn’t die for earning virtually zero, but she was having none of it so I  said sorry a few times and then walked out whilst she was still in mid-flow. 

Maybe I was wrong and maybe I was right.  For me the thought of two hours four days a week is not really earning a living.  It would barely cover the fuel to get there each day. 

What has shocked me so much about this whole episode is the fact that although this is meant to be a Private school with a glowing reputation, at not one point was I asked whether I had a CRB check or any criminal record.  Nor was I asked for any accreditation or proof of certification of anything whatsoever.  The gates that appear to be for security were wide open and there is no visitors book or actual reception.  Anyone can just stroll in and around the school and this shocked me quite a lot. Children are wandering around on their own – maybe on a loo trip or something but still alone in a big school with no security. This was a school that I was hoping to put my children into, but having seen how they seem to operate I can honestly say that they will not be attending.

It’s made me more determined to get our own business plans up and running.   

It’s also made me understand even more why the majority of Spaniards seem to work ‘on the black’ and why the economy is failing so miserably.  Cleaning jobs offer more money than teaching – nothing against cleaning jobs but this is ridiculous.

I am putting it down to another Spanish experience.  Unless I’d gone I wouldn’t have realised how completely slack this school is, whether others are the same I don’t know, but its making a strong case in my brain for continuing teaching my two little ones at home.

I won’t give up on gaining lawful part time employment.  Every simple thing we do in Spain is a fascinating insight into the way everything works.  Not a particularly inspiring insight but makes me more aware and as I said before, another Spanish experience!