Not to worry, my dog is fine…

Part Two of The Toot Tales

Not to worry, my dog is fine…

Oh the number of times we hear that jolly refrain when out and about the ‘hood with Toot! Happy humans with their hounds unleashed either bounding gleefully (not so bad) or stalking with intent focus (not so good) towards us.

Personally, I have nothing against dogs unleashed. But I do have concerns about dog guardians assuring me that their dog is fine, friendly, just wants to play and all the other firmly held jewels of misconception that come bubbling forth as their four legged companion ignores them completely and shoves their nose up Toot’s arse. When said hound suddenly assumes territorial rights on the boulevard or starts posturing with the whites of the eyes showing I feel less than assured that Fido or Poppet or Demon Pup is on the same page as myself in regards to the definition of fine.

Having been blessed with an incredible dog in my early twenties who seldom was attached to a leash and who rarely left my side, I have an instinctive pleasure in seeing that bond between human and canine. It is the dream, really. But here, in the busy world of our present social practices and over wrought sense of privilege, the dream teams are not that common. My lucky relationship with that particular dog was not because of my skills as a dog handler but in the remarkable personality of the dog.

I learned that distinction later in my co-habitation with other equally wonderful dogs who could not have given a toss about sticking by my side unless firmly secured by a lead, and even then the ‘by my side’ bit would have been a stretch. It didn’t make them any less fabulous, they were just very different dogs while I remained the same old human, indulgent, besotted, and a slave to their whims. I never assumed, however, that those dogs were ‘fine’ when out and about in public spaces.

Toot has a history of which we know little, other than the fact there has clearly been a fair bit of trauma in her life of one kind or another. Two broken teeth suggest less than stellar experiences and her wariness of new people in her sphere underlines that she has some deep rooted fears. We go forth into public spaces with this knowledge and are working at doing our best to keep her and all that she encounters firmly in the realm of the uneventful.

When dogs of any size come charging down a path heading straight into your chops uneventful no longer applies, regardless of the outcome. Starting with the basic logistics of one dog on leash, the other not. It gets even more fraught when the numbers shift and two or more dogs are circling and cavorting around the leashed dog. Luckily for us Toot is not fearful of dogs, she mostly, we surmise from her exuberance, just wants to play (!) but she remains at a huge disadvantage being on a lead. The playing ground is not level. Rules of engagement no longer apply and all sorts of heart stopping excitement takes place. This applies, of course, only when the unleashed dog is interested in playing as opposed to getting massively indignant that we are taking up space on public thoroughfares. If other intentions are predominant all bets are off. Hard to negotiate with a pugnacious dog and one finds that the humans in these equations hold truculently to their words. Like a thrown down gauntlet, the words ‘not to worry, my dog is fine’ leave Toot and I scrambling for a friendly resolution.

These encounters leave me curious about how the other human views this scenario. Action, if taken, involves them repeatedly calling their dog resulting in remarkable canine deafness from Fido or Poppet or Demon Pup, before there is an escalation of volume from the human that hits an alarming crescendo. Doggie deafness still in play, these happy folk simply smile at me and carry on their way regardless of whether Fido/Poppet/Demon Pup is attending to them or not. Now thoroughly tangled up in Toot’s lead and dangerously close to popping my own cork of correct social behaviour, Toot and I are left to entertain Fido/Poppet/Demon Pup and figure out a nice polite exit strategy.

I know, I know. Not to worry, my dog is fine.

Such laissez-faire incidents, thankfully, are a tiny percentage of what we experience when out walking Toot. Most folk are very perceptive, kind, and responsible dog guardians, tuned into their own dog’s requirements whilst keeping an eye out for potential doggie/guardian disasters. We have enjoyed a fair number of roadside friendships with other dog walkers, cyclists, horses out hacking and babies in strollers. We do our best to maintain a respectful distance and take things cautiously although sometimes things do go a bit sideways despite everyone’s best intentions. These collective experiences strengthen the foundation for Toot to graduate to being comfortable in all sorts of situations. I am always exceedingly grateful when whomever is on the two-legged end of the lead does not presume that my canine friend is in need of a full internal examination by their canine buddy. Toot, I am pleased to say, is not one to take such liberty’s with the dogs she meets on her rambles.

From the point of view of other people seeing me with Toot, I imagine a whole lot of mixed ideas are presented. Sometimes Toot walks along with nary a twitch or a second glance at on coming stimulus. Other times she explodes into a whirling fifty pound ball of ruffled white hair and flailing paws. She elevates herself straight into the air with surprising ease and startling speed, spinning and twisting and landing in a tangled heap only to leap up and twirl off on a different axis point while adding her deep voice to the chaos for enhanced effect. I never know quite how these bursts of crazy will end other than a guaranteed increase in my heart rate and a little prayer sent up to any deity that may be on call at that particular moment for it to all just fizzle out without too much loss of dignity. From an observational view point it can’t possibly look reassuring.

My turn to wildly acclaim, not to worry, my dog is fine

‘Til the next time, kristine