So Jake & I are walking along the canal on the crack o' dawn shift. I'm congratulating myself because every day this week he's turned round, come back to me and then walked to heel past the nesting swans and signets - instead of what he used to do (and still would, given the chance) - galluphing up to the swans, barking enthusiastically. What a good boy! What a training triumph!
And then...
he spots a cat further up the towpath and he's off, at full pelt, suddenly deaf, scattering other walkers as he goes. The cat escapes to the floating walkways where the canal boats are tethered. I'm running, and still miles behind, collecting outraged looks from passersby. What a badly trained dog! Has she no control over him?
We need a stunt cat to resolve the ongoing issue of running up to cats and barking at them. Is this a job for FagPuss?
And then...
he spots a cat further up the towpath and he's off, at full pelt, suddenly deaf, scattering other walkers as he goes. The cat escapes to the floating walkways where the canal boats are tethered. I'm running, and still miles behind, collecting outraged looks from passersby. What a badly trained dog! Has she no control over him?
We need a stunt cat to resolve the ongoing issue of running up to cats and barking at them. Is this a job for FagPuss?
Labels: Park life
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