There Is Always One, Isn't There?

We’re down the Yarra taking the dogs for a walk along the river.

There is no one down here, the place is deserted. Lovely and quiet and serene, except for a helicopter somewhere in the distance clearly keeping track on stupid people protesting wherever they are. (Just get vaccinated and stop your nonsense)

A couple of walkers approach just as I write this. (Ha ha, always the way) A girl with a lovely Lab pup called Buddy.

It is warm enough for a t-shirt, but only just. The sky is grey overcast, the is a cool breeze.

There is an old chick with a couple of ugly poodle types, who had been up the track and was on the way back just behind us.

Bruno is running around with a black Labrador Buddy when the old chick appears with her cream mutts. Both Bruno and Buddy – there are two Buddy’s don’t get confused. Our Buddy is standing by me watching on – approach her two dogs for a sniff, as dogs do.

The next thing the old chick is wetting her pants demanding we take our dogs away. “Oh, oh, oh, come and take your dog’s away. Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Don’t worry, my dog won’t hurt your dog,” I say. “He’s friendly.”

“That’s your story,” she says. 

Oh, you are one of those, I think. “No, it’s the truth,” I say. “He’s just saying hello.”

“My dog was attacked by a dog like that and he’s scared. Take him away.”

“Okay, sure,” I say. “But, if your dogs are scared of other dogs you shouldn’t bring them to an off-lead dog park.”

“It said on-lead,” she says defiantly.

“No, not here. This is all off-lead.”

“Well, I’m not going to be read the riot act by someone who can’t control their dogs,” she says.

“Control my dogs?” I question.

“My dog is scared. Your dogs are scaring him.”

Okay lady, I have been nice enough, I think. “Don’t bring your dogs to an off-lead dog park, luv, and then wet your pants when dogs approach you dog.”

“He was attacked only two weeks ago, that’s why he’s so scared.”

“All the more reason not to bring him to an off-lead area,” I say.

“You people have some strange ideas, that’s all I can say,” she says.

You people? I decide to ignore what that might mean. “Bringing a dog scared of other dogs to an off-lead dog park and then shitting your pants when other dogs approach it to say hello is an even stranger idea,” I say.

Sam had put Bruno on his lead by this stage, which I found disappointing. I wouldn’t have put Bruno on his lead in an off lead dogs park, just because some senile old bitch craps her incontinence pads.

By this stage, the old girl is steaming her way straight out of the park towards the bridge without looking back.

I contemplate running up behind her and whooping a “boo!” in her ear. The thought is as good as actually doing it. I chuckle to myself. (Oh, come on. Are you on her side?)

Young Buddy’s owner has put him on his lead by this stage also.

Modifying our behaviour for the stupid people, seriously, I think. I tune back into the sound of the helicopter patrolling the protests where ever they are.

My Bud is standing next to me. “Come on, let’s go.” He trots along next to me on my suggestion. Who’s not in control their dog, I think.