It’s been awhile since a huge matted-fur sort-of “dulux” dog pounced on me in the middle of the road. It’s been a while since I’ve been so bossy with my Amazonian friend K as well, but we all emerged unscathed. Apart from my new jumper which now has several pulled threads and my jeans are filthy but I don’t care. Really.
I was taking K to acupuncture for her long term back problem when the dog broke its feeble ropes and hurtled out to greet the world, narrowly missing several vehicles. It’s lucky that K and I are always on the look-out for beings who need saving. This is only a mistake when it involves people. Animals are supreme beings so it’s always an honour to help them.
So, dog was wild with freedom. I halted Chief (blocked a side-road but sod the highway code – one less angle of injury in my view.) K leaped out and called. Dog came but she couldn’t hold him. Who knows how long he’d been planning his escape, he was excited with it all. And wriggling. Gormlessly. Then he saw me coming round the car and liked the look of me too, or the new jumper. He leaped at me with the hugest smile on his muddy, matted face. What can you do? I wrestled him playfully to the floor while finding a grip in his fur. Ok, he might have a different take on that.
The landrover, whose way I was blocking, didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact many stopped to watch the friendly chaos. In these parts wrestling matches don’t usually come free – twenty pints of beer will set it off on a weekend but you also have to sell your mother/grandfolk/sister. And many do.
I got Dog in the car while K chatted with an arrived woman who knew where he lived. There was no-one home so K and I explored possibilities. We also found a house-key in the drive but K said it wouldn’t be legal to use it and let dog into the house. There was a sort of doghouse, way too small but clearly “his” and we shut him in there.
I can still smell him on me – he’s part of me now. Which is why I called the RSPCA. The woman searched for ages to find the address. K said what road it was and we clocked the house number on our return journey from hospital. But the roadname was wrong. K is a native here, so I was stunned at that. We used the hospital (once she found it) as a base point and I directed her to Dog’s place from there. She was superb. Never once did she back out of it, not once did she say I was making a fuss about nothing. But you know what? My biggest fear was that K and I would find Dog dead (or worse) at the side of the road on the way back.
My next biggest fear was that this could happen again - without me or K to coax him onto a safe backseat. Dog deserves better than that. My nextest biggest fear – that I sent him back to a hell he’d worked hard to escape and maybe death in roadworld was preferable to him.
I‘ll worry about Dog for ages now. I’ll worry that maybe I’ve made things worse for him … neglect knows no scale of severity .. it is or it isn’t.
