Dogs of War

For some time now when out on a walk I have been letting Muttley off the lead in short bursts and then recalling him – just so that he has a chance to prove himself and I have less of an arm stretching every time he sees another dog or squirrel.  This wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t discovered the power of the stick.  This is not as bad as it sounds.  Rather like my eldest son who goes into ‘Xbox stare’ to the exclusion of everything else - including dinner – Muttley gets the same intense look whenever you pick up a stick to throw for him.  Of course, it doesn’t have to be a stick, it could be a tennis ball or a Frisbee, but as we have only just got the hang of retrieving, and have yet to sort out Bringing it Back, let alone Dropping It, it works out cheaper the stick way.

Up in the army woodland is perfect for this– I don’t have to look too hard for a stick, and Muttley can run around freely without running the gauntlet of mums with buggies or small children which is often the way at the canal.  Of course, it is also home to the army, and so we are always on the alert for crouching soldiers, creeping platoons.

It was a lovely icy morning, all the puddles were frozen over and Muttley was intrigued that the sticks bounced across the water rather than sinking into the mud.  We rounded a hill and there, parked at the bottom, were three army trucks.  More importantly, there were three empty army trucks – which meant that the soldiers were already somewhere in the woods.  At that point we were halfway round our walk, and so as it made no sense to go on, we decided to turn back, as we knew that there hadn’t been any soldiers on the way there.

Stick, throw, stick, throw, stick, throw.  Off we went in happy companionship, Muttley staying close by, intense stare fixated on my hand.  Oblivious to everything else, it was a complete shock when  mid throw, the most enormous dog I have ever seen charged into me, knocking me flat on to my back into a muddy (and very cold) puddle.  As I sat there dripping, this new acquaintance looked at me in great joy and snatched the stick from my hand.  In great frustration Muttley launched himself at the newcomer, wanting his stick back.  At that moment the owners came into view.  A little retired couple, still looking bemused at the fact that their small puppy had turned into Clifford the big red dog, apologized for the fact that their bull mastiff had knocked me to the ground and was proceeding to use me as a lollipop. 

Following our previous tracks into deep woodland, imagine my thoughts when we careered into a whole load of soldiers, who had obviously circumnavigated us the first time, but closed in on us on the return journey.  Too late, I realized that they also had with them a golden Labrador.  I’m not sure what its role as an army dog was, but as soon as it saw Muttley, it gave an excited yap and cannonballed towards us.  Muttley leapt deftly out of the way – but I wasn’t so lucky – and ended up back in a puddle. The leader of the troops, sensing from the stifled sniggers of his men that he was not only losing control of his dog, was getting more and more impatient with the Labrador, and so as I stood up dripping, wiping my mudspattered hair to one side, I held up a stick from the puddle and shouted ‘Muttley!’ At the same point the leader shouted ‘Stand down men!’, and Muttley, seeing a chance to play, play, play started barking at the relaxing soldiers. ‘Muttley!’ I shouted, waving my stick in vain, as the Labrador rounded on me excitedly again, and so I threw it for him.

‘I’m so sorry Ma’am’ blustered the soldier ‘He’s only young and he’s still in training – Marley, come here boy!’ 

‘Don’t worry’, I said, ‘Have you seen mine?!’  My guard dog was at this moment on his back, eyes rolling ecstatically as his tummy was rubbed by one of the soldiers…

As we advanced soggily homewards I wondered at the larger role of dogs in society – guide dogs, hearing dogs, police dogs and even army dogs. Highly tiring,(and embarrassing), to keep and train as youngsters, with care they become Man’s best friend and protector. Who knows, that seemingly uncontrollable yellow ball of boundless energy may one day end up somehow saving the lives of all of those men who had spent time and energy training with him in the woods.  And mine?  Well, still a work in progress…