Ahh.. the joys of Bulldog ownership. So there we are, me and me little pack (2 American Bulldogs and an elderly StaffXWhippet with Laser Eyes and Jedi skills) wombling free on a local common when my worst nightmare comes flumping around the corner. Its a young, stupid, floppy yellow lab called Simba (lose points for the worlds least original name for a lab puppy, do not pass Go, do not collect £200) I know this because its owner, who seems to be made entirely out of pink fleece is calling its name without pause, in a voice that could etch glass at 20 paces, like a car alarm with a Hello Kitty scarf. Simba is, quite rightly, running as fast as his bendy legs can take him away from the noise.
Bowie (lady Bulldog, 35kg, can run 100m in 8.6 seconds) levitates off the ground with joy at the arrival of a young playmate with no grip on reality and play she does, they immediately wrestle and chase in the most endearing and natural manner, Bowie true to her breed makes growly noises when she plays but tails are wagging and both are bowing in turn and rolling each other over. The Pink Lady is horrified "Why is your dog playing so rough?" she demands,"Why is your dog making that horrible noise? It sounds awful!" "Are you going to stop this?" "Are you going to call your dog off?" "Why did I get a puppy when I know nothing about dog behaviour and cant tell the difference between play and aggression?" (ok, ok, I made the last one up) I have nothing to say to this fool, but with a muttered "Your dog looks fine to me love," I prepare to walk away. And then a gift arrived.
Two skittish horses barrell down the bridleway towards us, Simba breaks off from transferring a pint of drool into Bowie's ear and barks excitedly at them, then starts to charge. Pink Lady manages to grab his collar and wrestles a flailing demented plonker of a puppy under her arm, trying to attach a lead. "I'm just going to put him on the lead!" She trills, "He's not good with horses!" (which rather begs the fundamental question- why do you bring him out on a Bridleway then?).
"Its ok," I say calmly and loudly to the horseriders, "Mine are." And they are, I have all 3- nearly 100kg of muscle- sitting waiting for the horses to pass, then give them a release command and we continue on our way. I look round at the bridleway junction, Pink (more Maroon now) Lady is staring after me, her dog still going bonkers at the horses. "I'm going this way." I call back, "Why dont you go on the other path?"
I think she got the message.
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