Sore paw

As you cannot fail to notice, Mrs Bitey likes to live life to the max. Unfortunately, this lifestyle of extremes inevitably leads to various injuries and trips to the vet to be patched up.

After an eventful year of ripped claws, fox fight wounds and resultant mange, a broken tooth, a hoppity knee and the season finale removal of dew claws, I was skint and Mrs B very pissed off. I can be forgiven I think for considering the claw removal as being the nadir and that things could only improve. It was looking hopeful for the future as we hadn’t needed to visit for a good 3 months, aside from the annual MOT and boosters visit at Christmas.

So, this week, just as the clinic team were forgetting what we looked like, Mrs Bitey developed a rather sore paw. For variation, this time it was a front one and she spent a good deal of time hopping and squealing when it accidentally got caught it in the harness as well as looking an exceedingly mournful and out of sorts doggy. When rest and a dab of cure-all sudocrem didn’t seem to help, it was time to go to the vet once more.

Despite being foiled in a spirited, but ultimately unsuccessful attempt at bolting out of the door and then being subjected to a thorough examination with bitey teeth muzzled for safety, Mrs B did manage to maintain a reasonable demeanour and indeed wangle a great deal of treats, take her first dose of steroids and generally look cutely hard done by. Her paw is very inflamed and appears to be a allergic reaction to something – probably cheap health service grass fertilizer – so it’s the joy of tablets for a week then back for a review.

Mrs B is not the only one that’s needed a trip to the vet lately. Earlier in the week, we saw lovely Sandie and soppy old Fang the Alsatian in the dog park. We’d not seen them since the Post Op Exile in the West, so it was really nice to see them both and quite touching to get such a heartfelt welcome back. Fang habitually likes to sit on my feet and look up at me until I tickle his ears – which I duly did whilst chatting to Sandie and keeping a jealous Bitey busy with playing ball. I noticed that Fang had a wound on his face which had swollen up a fair bit and it transpired that Tricky, one half of the dreaded Tricky and Dicky duo, was responsible. Fang had apparently poked his head through the gate and been set on by Tricky who’d been lying in the grass nearby.This didn’t surprise me. Tricky often pounces unexpectedly after eyeing his prey for a while. I’ve seen him do it and Mrs B has been on the receiving end enough times.

Sandie also told me that Tricky had almost been bitten in self-defence by an exasperated member of Liz Duke’s Fab Four who had been provoked, harassed and attacked endlessly by Tricky. Mr Crackberry had apparently remained true to form, fiddling with his phone, unaware of his dog’s antics and then when finally noticing the
melee, making a feeble whistling noise in a pathetic attempt to call Tricky away. Thankfully Liz waded in and separated the scrapping pair before any serious injury was done. I was aghast by this news as Liz’s dogs are so good-natured. I do feel that it illustrates just how persistently aggressive Tricky is though.

I took little comfort in my wariness of Tricky being justified, especially when a handsome boy like Fang got injured and the clone prejudice towards the fab four staffies reinforced but I did feel vindicated. Mr Crackberry has frequently implied that my response to Tricky pestering Mrs B has been disproportionate and indeed has been quick to assume that Mrs B is the problem. Certainly Mrs B is prone to using attack as a primary tactic for defence and can be extremely unpredictable with other dogs, but my gut feeling has always been that Tricky is the instigator and is far too dominant. However, an owner like Mr CB who cannot see any fault in his own dogs, surrounded by colluding clone cronies with a similar mindset, makes it very easy for me to doubt my judgement and assume that Mrs B is the problem.

Sandie’s news also explained the absence of Tricky and Dicky, who I’d not seen hide nor hair of since the return from exile. I briefly began to imagine a Tricky free dog park and harboured a glimpse of a reformed Mr CB finally ditching his phone, growing a pair and taking responsibility for his dogs. It was very short lived. The very next morning, Tricky and Dicky arrived in the park and Tricky immediately seized upon the sighting of Mrs B as a target for frenzied barking, chasing and posturing. We had to abandon playing ball and exit the park rapidly. Mr CB played with his sodding phone although did call Tricky back slightly more frequently than usual.

It will be interesting to see what happens next but it is quite reassuring to know that the Tricky problem is not solely of my making.

Double trouble

Canine and human hearts collectively sank this morning on arrival at the Dog Park as the gruesome twosome Old English Sheepdog duo of Tricky and Dicky were in residence along with their owner, Mr Crackberry.

Mr Crackberry dresses the part for his park outings- Hunter wellies, Belstaff motorbike jacket (as worn by the ever gorgeous and much mourned Steve Mc Queen) and suitably Boden-esque casual clothing. However it is a shame that he does not lavish as much time on his dogs as he does on his sartorial style and incessant tapping on his Blackberry.

I love Old English Sheepdogs- a very dear friend of mine who lives t’up north on’t moors has the most delightful mature OES gent who, apart from sporting the world’s most saggy testicles (think tangerine suspended from a pair of tights), is a huge soppy cuddly yeti who I adore. I’ve looked after him a few times now and he is a lovely lad- but bloody hard work at times. He is big, boisterous, strong, needs firm boundaries and lots of exercise. Mrs B is terrified of him because his paws are roughly the size of her head, and she hates all other dogs anyway, but he is a good natured soul who ignores or bats off lairy terrier growling with a flick of a paw.

Firm boundaries and lots of exercise are the two things that Tricky and Dicky do not seem to have. Mr CB is always far too busy playing with his Blackberry or chatting up clones to engage with his dogs. He never brings any toys to keep the duo amused. Consequently, they charge around the park without command or stimulation. I assume that Mr CB thinks that the duo are capable of amusing themselves. Trust me, they are not.

Dicky runs around but clearly is the passive pooch of the pair. Tricky lives up to his name and is a bolshy bully boy. He charges around aggressively knocking over or barging smaller dogs out of his way. He tries to snatch toys from the jaws of others and when not throwing his weight about, he lies on the grass, beady eyes watching avidly for a moment when he can pounce. I’ve copped a few bruises and mud on my keks when Tricky has bounced off my legs.

Mr CB is inevitably too busy fiddling with his phone to even know where in the park Tricky is- let alone what he is doing. When he eventually glances up from feverish tapping, usually in response to me shouting at Tricky to leave Bitey alone, he gives the most wet, drippy, cringing whistling noise and asks, yes asks Tricky to come back. Tricky takes absolutely no notice and so there is a palpable sigh from Mr CB as he has to snatch his eyes away from his digital addiction and actually come over to hustle Tricky away. Incidentally he never apologises for the mud all over me or the fact that Mrs Bitey, fur bristled but tail passively clamped down over her bum, is running for her life with Tricky hot on her heels attempting to flip her over and nick her ball. Mr CB is impassive as Mrs B flees growling and snapping, sometimes pausing to smile indulgently at what he thinks is doggy play.

It’s not play from where I’m standing. It’s dominant, aggressive behaviour as a result of a lack of stimulation, exercise and control. It usually means that our time in the park comes to a premature end as the constant attacks become intolerable. This incenses me to a degree where I fear I will have strong words although don’t as they are unlikely to have any impact (my politer requests to call Tricky off are never acknowledged). In many ways I feel sorry for Tricky as it cannot be much fun being ignored and left to his own devices.

Mrs Bitey is certainly no angel and can be a bully with smaller dogs herself. Her recall is not very reliable and she does regularly bugger off hunting. However, I do attempt to keep law and order and any lairy behaviour towards other dogs is swiftly dealt with. I try to ensure that she gets lots of play, focussed exercise and attention and whilst I am sure that I could do more, she seems content and stimulated.

I fail to see the point of having two lovely but needy dogs if all one is interested in is playing with a mobile phone. Our canine friends are not mini furry humans that can amuse themselves and use time in the park as the same social occasion as their owners do. Making sure that your dog has regular trips to the groomer and is always seen sporting the latest designer collar is very nice but not a substitute for exercise and attention. It is grossly unfair on the duo and other dogs who end up as prey and yet I’m willing to bet that Mr CB would be horrified if I told him that I think his behaviour borders on neglect.

Thankfully, Mrs Bitey usually has a ball clamped in her jaw so has not yet lived up to her name. She has however, issued a lot of ‘fuck off’ growls to the point that I feel it is only a matter of time before she takes a chunk out of Tricky. I won’t blame her when she does either- I doubt Mr CB will take that view though.