A little story

Life would be really simple if we could stereotype everyone and they all fit nicely into that stereotype. The problem is people keep jumping out of our stereotyping and throwing all our beliefs out of the window. Here’s an example of what I mean.

Earlier in the year, on a nice sunny day, I was walking my two border collies on the local park. Now I know all the usual dog walkers on the park, the ones who are out every day of the year regardless of the weather. In summer , when the weather is good, we get people who keep their dogs locked up in back yards and gardens deciding to take their dogs out.

These dogs are completely unsocialized and are usually aggressive. They usually only appear once or twice before realising that dog walking is hard work so they disappear again. Being used to this I always keep an eye out for these dogs when the weather is good.

I was on the park on a hill when I noticed a young guy and his girlfriend or wife walking a staff on the playing fields about five hundred yards away. I stood next to a tree because I didn’t want the staff to spot us.

The staff was running around like crazy and its owners clearly could not control it. They were screaming at it and swearing at it.

They looked like, and I tagged them as typical chavs. The guy had a thick gold chain over a white tracksuit top and a baseball hat the wrong way round. Every second word he screamed was the F word.

The staff suddenly stopped its manic running around and its eyes locked onto me. Suddenly it burst towards me with the guy screaming at it to F----g stop now you little c---t.

I realised I had what the Americans call “a situation” I had two old pet collies, these dogs are not fighters, they’ve had a lifetime of pampering from my family and besides that they were old; no match for a young staff which was lasering on us like a homing missile.

What to do? I considered my options; fast. Option one was to leg it as fast as possible. I was up for this but one of the dogs had hung his trainers up years ago and would not run. No matter what I did to try to get him to run he would just shake his head and look at me as if to say “Yeah Right”
I used to throw a ball for him but ended up having to retrieve it myself so I stopped doing it.

Anyway I discounted that option. The staff was going for it now. It wanted a fight and it was closing fast. Option two let the dogs off the lead hoping this would give them a chance to defend themselves. A half decent idea with some sound logic to back it up apart from the fact that these dogs were not fighters, and I couldn’t see themselves defending themselves very well.

As the staff closed for the kill followed by his swearing owner I opted for option three: This was to pull the dogs in close and to put my body between the staff and the dogs. I reasoned I could fight a rear-guard action while the out of shape owner got it back on a lead.

So I prepared myself for action. The staff was zooming in faster than ever, then I noticed something which gave me some hope. It was muzzled. My anger at the chavs dissipated a little. They had had the sense to muzzle it. This was great news, the situation had gone down the danger levels a bit.

The staff reached us and went straight for one of my dogs. I put my leg in the way. Now I’m pretty fit and my legs are pretty solid after thirty years of cycling but I totally underestimated what six stone of solid muscle charging into your leg can do.

It felt like I had being hit by a rod of iron and it rocked me a bit. It was the worse dead leg I’ve ever had. I was furious, madder than the staff and I decided that when the chav reached us I was really going to lay into him.

Meanwhile I had the staff to deal with. After its initial attack it moved away a distance before launching another attack. I stopped it by putting my other leg in its way and shouting at it. This confused it for a few seconds and it withdrew.

The panting chav was approaching fast and the first blows of the battle had seen me on top, apart from a sore leg.
The staff was annoyed, he was looking for a way past me but when he turned I turned, when he side stepped I side stepped, he charged again. I adopted the policy that attack is the best form of defence and charged him shouting.

He came tearing in and I stamped my foot down in front of it, it crashed into me and tried to bite me but the muzzle prevented this. Meanwhile the chav had arrived, he was shouting the dog. I turned to him and was just about to really lay into him when he said;

“I’m sorry mate, are you ok?” He got the dog on its lead and continued.

“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have let him off.” He then expressed genuine concern for my dogs. This totally diffused me. Meanwhile his girl-friend arrived and apologised.

“We’re going to get ‘im trained, I told “im not to let “im off the lead but he wouldn’t listen.”

By this time I was quiet calm. I told them not to worry and that putting the muzzle on was a good idea. We parted amicably and I was left to reassess my prejudices and stereotyping.

It just goes to show, as my grandma used to say, you can’t judge a book by it cover.

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I enjoyed that,LOL.
At least they apologised and it was wearing a muzzle.

Bet it was scarey though

This really made me chuckle!

LOL, had to admit, sounded like you got caught on the back foot there...it's funny when you are expecting something from chavs and get something completely different.

"six stone of solid muscle"

OMG!
A 6 stone staffie!!! That would be a monster!

You don't mean that, do you???

J.

Ok, maybe I was a bit off with the weight but it felt like six stone on my leg.

Phew! That's a relief, hope your leg is ok!

J.

Blimey, you had me riveted there, and I didn't expect that outcome either! So eloquently written, you never lost me for a second, and that's quite a feat in itself!!! Hope your leg doesn't hurt too much though, and well done for protecting your old doglets like that, but then, only the genuine and responsible would do that wouldn't they

I think we'd all protect our dogs from danger.