Despite having a dog when I was younger since dog-sitting Lincoln I’ve been on a massive learning curve. Before Linc I had no idea it was possible for a dog to suffer with abandonment issues ... for those of you who are sniggering and thinking I am one of those people who attribute human tendencies and attributes – neurosis included – to their pets I am one such person but not this time. Stop scoffing ‘Yeah right of course love’ and read on for a moment, I promise you will be laughing (at my expense admittedly but you will be laughing) by the end of this post.
Lincoln – named after Lincoln Burrows from the series Prison Break, although I think you already know this from a previous blog – is a 2 year old golden Labrador and weighs as much as me (more I’m hope otherwise I feel fat and feeble). When we go for a walk it is more a case of him taking me for a walk, not only does he pull me along the street like he is making a bid for freedom but he has this ‘thing’ about having to be in front of you. I’m not just talking about a pace or two I mean a whole foot out in front. I’m almost inclined to believe that thinks he is showing me the way to the field where I walk him 3 times a day... I said almost. I know you’re saying that’s ridiculous but you should try running to get ahead of him. This thing about trying to get out in front of him soon turns into a sprint with me looking like a twat. Here’s what I mean; he’s pulling me along to the point my arm feels like it is being ripped off at the shoulder, my pockets are stuffed with balls he will never retrieve when I throw – he’ll chase them but clearly I am the one who threw them so it must only be right that I get to ‘fetch’ them myself – all while I desperately try not to fall flat on my face grazing whatever appendage happens to hit the pavement and break my fall first. You’d think I learn and give it up wouldn’t you?...clearly not because I do it every time I look after him. I’m pretty sure there is a village somewhere out there calling for their idiot (me) to come home.
The other day I decided I’d give him a bit of a change from walking around the field, I reasoned that it must get pretty boring for him going to the same places, sniffing the same tuffs of grass, peeing on the same fences etc. I decided I’d take him to the local shop with me. That would be my first mistake. Linc, as I learned, not only has to be out in front of you, but also will purposely (yes purposely) walk in a crooked line to block any of your attempts to get along side him or in front of him. The result? Me looking like a drunk in charge of a dog weaving my way up the road to buy what can only be assumed is more cheap alcohol. So attractive.
By the time we reach the shop I’m a little frustrated and amused at the same time. My arm hurts, my hands are freezing, my nose is running and the little car park is rammed with mother’s having parked pretty much wherever they felt like it to pick their kids up from school. It beats me why they can’t walk there and back, most of them live on the same private housing estate where I do and it isn’t far but ... well, I can only assume it must be that ‘massive’ hill we so clearly have to walk up... Just as Linc and I are turning up so does another person with their Alsatian, knowing Linc has the tendency to rub other dogs up the wrong way I quite superiorly advised ‘Don’t be stupid and tie them up together, that’s just asking for trouble’. I know, I know, head up own ass springs to my mind too. My cheeks are still tinged twenty shades of Dulux red at the mere memory of it. Being the kind hearted man he was he let me go in the shop first and that was when all pandemonium began to break loose.
The moment I stepped out of sight and through the door Linc began to bark and howl like his life depended on it. Obviously it was just my luck that the shop was full of afore mentioned mothers buying the much needed provisions for the arduous journey of that hill for their offspring. I dutifully ignored their frowns and looks of disgust because I was doing the right thing by not buying into Linc’s temper tantrum. I picked up my Pappadoms and joined the long cue still ignoring Linc. I was just about to pay when people started shrieking, kids started crying and utter chaos ensued. Innocently I turned to see what was going on... you already know where I am going with this don’t you, pity somewhere hadn’t forewarned me. You guessed it Linc had, true to his name sake and the series, broke free, more than that he had come looking for me in the shop. I was mortified. Needless to say I did the only thing I could do; apologise profusely and made a hasty exit dragging Linc, as much as I could, behind me. If that wasn’t soul destroying enough the kind gentleman who had let me go in the shop before him was laughing so hard I thought he was going to forget to breath. To nail the final nail in the coffin of my being taken down a peg or two Linc picked up a dirty and discarded plastic bottle of Coke and wouldn’t be parted from it. Obviously I scolded him all the way down the hill. I didn’t care that I looked like I was talking to myself (in addition to be drunk) I was giving him a piece of my mind. Once we reached the front door Linc promptly dropped the offending plastic Coke bottle on the door mat and sauntered through the door. Nice.
The moral of the story is... pride and animals do not mix. That aside, I have him again this weekend and I’m wondering what adventure he will take me on this time.
