Took my dog for quiet evening walk in the forest. We passed several houses, all quite isolated with large guard dogs that snarled as we past – except for one.
An Alsation had dug a hole under it’s fence and, with teeth glinting, hair raising, and barking furiously was charging towards me.
I had only one weapon, a foot, that I raised as the animal prepared to leap. A brown and white flash zipped between my legs. My Jack Russel does not allow anyone to threaten me, with at least five teeth she attached herself to the Alsation.
The barks of fury from the guard dog turned to yelps of pain as the Jack Russel grabbed a bigger mouthful of the Alsation.
A scrabbled turn and the dog raced back to the safety of it’s garden. Problem. The hole was only just big enough for the Alsation, so I watched helpless as the windmill of dogs raised dust and damaged everything near them.
Jack Russels never let go. If I tried to prise my dog off I would also get an Alsation that I did not want.
My timid jabbing with a hand at the melee was stopped by a yell. The Alsation’s owner was swearing at me on the run from his house.
Apparently it was my fault his dog had got out. My reply did ot please him. He picked up a stick and ran around his garden to the gate to get at me.
It was obvious, as I could see him running at me with a stick raised, my Jack Russel could also. Like I said, no one is allowed to attack me and the brown and white flash released the yelping Asation to attend to it’s owner.
The Alsation shot through the fence and hid under a tractor in the garden.
The yelps of pain turned from animal to human as the Jack Russel sampled a piece of leg. The victim tried to hit my dog with the stick. No one is allowed to touch my dog! The stick snapped easily as I caught it and threw it in the garden.
Another yell eurupted. Mrs Alsation had joined the party. She took one look at the scene, summed up the problem and like all good wives, blamed her husband for eveything.
“I told you five time to fix that fence!”
Her husband was holding on to tree and swearing at me. Now I was getting annoyed. I can speak French, but when I get annoyed my French changes to a type of French the French do not understand, which I forgive them for as I can’t understand what I am saying either.
But I was ignored. Madam Alsation was slipping into top gear.
“And you haven’t fixed the bath tap, or the chair leg, or the fireplace, or…”
The list went on and on. Now I can deal with a maniac dog attacking me, I can deal with someone trying to hit me with a stick, but a list of domestic chores strikes fear into my core.
Even the Alsation was covering it’s ears with it’s paws under the tractor.
I needed to retreat but my dog was still attached to the wilting form of the husband.
But when the going gets tough, the tough go for a walk. My Jack Russel, seeing her master walking away without hindrence, let go of Mr Alsation and trotted, with her tail up and only a trace of Mr Alsations bood on her fur, happily behind me. And we continued our quiet evening walk in the forest.