Are you a dog-owner? Do you walk your dog?
Do you sometimes notice a woman, or could also be a man, with a dog that’s just way too-excitable for its owner? Their human is always looking frazzled, stressed-out and can’t seem to handle their energetic dog, especially when there are other four-legged-furry-animals around. Their dog won’t come back when called and would excite the other well-behaved dogs, whose owners would peer down at the over-excitable one with disapproval, as well as at the owner, calling for their dog in a desperate plea, to please come back to them.
I have a confession to make, I am that woman. Yep, that stressed-out woman who loses her dignity when there are other dog-walkers around. When I do finally manage to put him back on his leash, he’ll spin-me-around like a ballerina, although not gracefully, as I mutter apologies under my breath “Sorry about that. He’s just an excitable teenager”. Most owners would smile at me, some would even laugh and of course, there are others who would just give a curt nod, nudge their dogs to move away from that mad-dog and his owner, lest their craziness is catching.
That’s Doc. I usually take him out for a walk when it’s lunch-time, hoping that the headland would be empty and he can have a ran around without getting distracted by other dogs. When there are others, he becomes like a mad-one, yapping away, being-over-friendly, some dog-owners try to shoo him away, which he interprets as a game or sees it as a come-hither gesture. My husband says he’ll outgrow it soon. He’ll settle down soon and I always ask … when? Impatient for that time to come NOW!
He isn’t that bad actually, though I’m not exaggerating what I’ve described above. It really does happen, especially when there are other dogs around. But he’s fine. He is Doc. Little T’s dog. We have lovely walks together, especially when it’s just the two of us.
This is our rock. In the summer, I sometimes sit here and watch the sea while he hovers around me, smelling, always smelling everything on sight, as if having a conversation with them, with his nose.
This is what our village looks like in November.
When I stop to take photos, he gives me an “Oh no, not again look”. Exasperated, would go off in a trot, leaving me behind. Most times, he’ll come back for me. I’ll see him peering in the corner, with his little head, tilted a bit as if to say “Are you coming?”
I love the whiteness of this building against the grey sky and orangey-greenish colour of the hill.
If we do manage to go out at lunchtime, we always, always stop in this little spot, beside that post, with the yellow arrows.
Not because of the scenery …
If you look closer, you will see little T’s school. It’s that building right in front of the church with the green door. And if I time it perfectly and it’s not raining, Doc and I will hear the children’s laughter and actually see them playing outside. Sometimes I say to him, “Do you hear her Doc? Do you hear your little T?” I imagine him saying “Yes, I can just about hear her faintly. She is laughing and giggling.”
And then our walk always ends up by the side of this Norman church. We go through the wooden gate and make our way back home. By then, he is knackered and is well-behaved, walking along with my pace, instead of pulling away from me.
Do you have a dog?
Are they as excitable as little T’s dog?
Have a lovely week folks!