What to do on a walk

Many years ago when Jumble our last dog was a carefree un-neutered male a walk contained for him numerous elements. Of course, he would meet various of his mates, check their digestive systems, watch out for cats, squirrels and other annoyances. Even if he saw none of the above there was the olfactory importance of reading the parish notices, checking his mail and leaving answering messages. Not least were the lonely hearts advertisements to post and answer – ‘Handsome stud seeks hot bitch to pursue mutual interests’ etc.

Fast-forwarding to today’s world, every male seems to be neutered and the importance of leaving pee messages has diminished. Certain trees, bits of street furniture and landmarks on the common, formerly covered by invisible message boards, once oh so fascinating, are passed without so much as a sniff, not that I complain, but I recently got to thinking about what each of our floating population of pack members looked for in a walk.

Coca, for instance looks for the admiration and love of friends and strangers, ever keen to sit on a foot (immobilizing her admirer) and bask in their affection. Beyond that she looks for supplements to her diet, ‘I say, there’s fresh bunny poo over here’.

Mooli lives for the opportunity to ‘bounce’ some poor other dog. In the distance he sees a Fothering-Thomas of a pooch, happily minding its own business, saying as it were ‘Hallo Clouds, Hallo Sun’ in the way that attracted Molesworth’s scorn. Mooli’s head goes down into hunting mode, he pauses, then he charges, growling fearsomely in the hope the Fothering-Thomas will turn and run and be good for a snarling chase. When he returns oozing self-satisfaction he finds it hard to comprehend the lack of admiration. Admiration is what he clearly deserves as any fule kno.

I am ashamed to admit young Mooli developed this appalling behavior in association with young Rocco - yes this is a secret of the otherwise laid-back Rocco’s guilty past - Mooli acted as Rocco’s henchdog. Needless to say Rocco nowadays is above all this, ever keen to control his pack to walk in a crocodile holding hands. When I see Mooli’s head go down in hunting mode, I distract him sometimes with a ‘treat.’ He has amplified this into a protection racket - when he sees a Fothering-Thomas he catches my eye, ‘gimme a treat or that wimp gets it’.

Nessie, a black Labrador, is chiefly interested in food, (it is said that once a couple of centuries ago, a Labrador missed a meal, the breed have vowed never to let this happen again). Nessie (‘oh, no not Nessie’ used to be her full name) launches herself at any picnic or any person suspected of picnicking like a heat seeking missile. Otherwise, it must be said, she is a delightful companion. 

Archie is a natural scientist, ever interested in the flora and fauna, flotsam and jetsam, etc and etc that he comes across. He plays a reverse version of ‘Grandmother’s footsteps’ – whenever you look back to see where he has got to, he is twenty yards behind you trotting happily, bound to catch-up with you in a moment. You look away and know he will instantly stop to examine some fascinating leaf. You look back once more and he is twenty yards behind you trotting happily, bound to catch-up with you in a moment…

Bobby, the greyhound we are fostering, never looses an opportunity to greet people to impress them by his affability otherwise he is a keen squirrel chaser though a fairly hopeless one, he works up such a speed that he will over run the tree up which his prey disappeared by twenty foot.

More to come...