I like to think I have a way with dogs (probably the musty odour I give off or something). Anyway, yesterday Caplin the Yorkie posed no problem to me whilst I was going mano-o-doggo with him in the bath. He had plenty of opportunity to biite me and show me who’s boss, but he didn’t. However, once he was dried and handed over to my mother, the problems began. He became the anti-christ of Yorkies, nipping and biting and growling and generally being a little hairy bastard. Even my mother said to me on the telephone: “At this stage, I prefer Alex the Wonderdog”. Strong words indeed.
So it was late last night and the dog was still giving my mother and her partner grief (he had been bitten four times, she once or twice). After walking Alex, I went over and offered to take the Yorkie for a long walk, the idea being to wear him down physically. If you break them physically, their aggression soon diminishes. So I walked him for about 30 minutes and this dog (for an eight-year-old) goes like a rocket and I was literally running to keep up. It was like having a rat on a string.
Anyway, I took him back and hoped that this was the end of it but ten minutes later my mother called to tell me that he had struck again, biting when they attempted to remove his little leather harness. Oh dear…I gave her some training advice, but I don’t think they are tough or disciplined enough to carry it through. With rescue dogs, you really do have to give them a bit of tough love to whip them into shape. I can’t see anything good coming out of this unless they both get tough with him.
On a separate note, I heard a sad story about a dog that went missing locally. The dog, called Buffy, was a miniature Schnauser and I knew this dog from the early days of getting Alex. It had escaped from its home and followed me and Alex up the road. Eventually, I worked out where it lived and a neighbour took it in. I remarked to The Missus that no good would come of that dog. My bugbear is people who let their dogs roam or don’t take sufficient precautions when leaving their animal alone. If you can’t keep an animal safe or from escaping, you shouldn’t have one, says I.
Anyway a couple of months ago, the local newspaper (or “rag” as I call it) had a story about Buffy going missing again. Homemade posters also appeared in the neighbourhood, precariously sellotaped to lamposts. Initially it was thought that maybe the dog had escaped and got picked up by someone else. It was a very friendly animal and anyone could have easily rehoused it without problem. Alas, the news was worse than that.
It appears that when the dog escaped, it had somehow found its way into a neighbour’s garden several houses away and fell into the swimming pool and drowned. Very sad. Not sure who to feel sorry for: the dog or the person that found a large dead animal in their swimming pool. Very sad indeed.

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