This morning’s trip to the Dog Park started out as being the usual weekend routine with no inkling for anything out of the ordinary. There’d been a hard frost and so it was one of those really cold, crisp starts where everything is sparkly and it’s like breathing in razor blades. This boded well as very cold or wet early morning weekends tend to be quiet and uneventful down at the dog park.
Wrong!
Tricky and Dicky were snarling near to the gate. No Mr Crackberry today (maybe his Blackberry was on charge) but instead a woman I assume must be Mrs CB. She wasn’t even bothering to walk but instead stood in front of the gate shivering and wondering why T & D were not walking themselves around the park.
Mrs Bitey always barks as we go into the park because she has just copped sight of the ball and thrower and is manically excited. Within seconds of the gate opening, Tricky lunged at us. I waited for Mrs CB to intervene but she didn’t, but just stood gawping like an expiring trout. I grabbed Mrs B but then had Tricky jumping at me, copped a yeti paw right in my hernia which knocked the breath out of me and had to let go of Mrs B who was immediately set upon. Every time she broke away, Tricky was straight back at her again.
I lost it. I turned to Mrs CB and shouted “Will you get your dog off mine now. I am bloody sick of this, your dog always does this. If you can’t be bothered to exercise, train or control your dog, don’t bloody bring it here”.
Impressive I think under the circumstances and also amazing in that the strongest profanity was ‘bloody’. I usually sound like a Tourettes conference when riled so was shocked myself.
Mrs CB gave a pitiful attempt at trying to catch Tricky but could not control him so gave up trying, walked away leaving him to keep chasing and attacking Mrs B. I could not believe this, still can’t and indeed feel the fury rising again as I write this. I don’t think she could believe that her beloved dog could be behave in such a way. Clearly denial ain’t just a river in Egypt….
In the end, Bitey launched an almighty snap and growl which sent T off running to the gate for long enough to get the lead on him. Mrs CB then stood staring at me, affronted that she’d had to step onto the grass and get cold feet. They left eventually.
So briefly we had the whole park to ourselves, a vast white sparkling winter wonderland. Liz Duke and her fab four staffies bounced in, not a problem as they play together, come when called and aren’t very interested in playing with Bitey. However another member of the Bull Frat pitched up with a not very fab gang of staffies and two ADHD kids. Razor, one of the unfab four, who is big and plays very rough, decided to duff up Mrs B, a fight ensued (swiftly broken up by an Oi! from Liz) and yet again, Bitey was in my arms beating a hasty retreat. More mayhem was had trying to get out of the park gate as Razor jumped around in front of the gate and Lulu, one of the Duke pack decided to nip out of the gate as I manovered myself and canine cargo out whilst fighting off Razor with the ball thrower. All owners and kids pitched in to help, Lulu came back, Razor was finally caught and Mrs Bitey was munching smackos and smugly peering out of the car window within a few minutes.
There wasn’t much difference in canine behaviour in both incidents- all dogs (Bitey included) were overexcited, out of control and being lairy. However, the response in owners could not have been different. Drama was averted in both cases and yet only the Frat were apologising and laughing in a good natured way with me about the absurdity of it all.
So much for the quiet routine walk.
