Tea and Dog Biscuits (24 page)

The manager of the pound had told us that a man, tall and heavily built, had been seen by some people to pick the dog up and throw him into the road in front of a bus as it moved off. Mercifully, the bus driver had swerved and somehow missed the dog. The man was never identified and the dog had no name tag.

Dorothy was unusually quiet for the next couple of hours. She was immersed in a book for much of the time, which wasn't unusual, but every now and then she would look up and gaze at the fire.

I watched as she closed her book, went to the cupboard where we kept the clean food dishes and filled one with a couple of mugfuls of the dry dog food that we used. I guessed who it was for and that we would be off shortly down to that pen, and that she had, by now, formulated a plan of action for us and the dog.

She put on her dog-walking jacket, and picked up the food bowl, then went back into the living room and picked up her book. Bowl in one hand and book in the other, she went to the back door. She paused. My puzzlement must have clearly shown on my face.

‘I'm going to go and sit with him,' she said.

My puzzled expression must have turned into a surprised one.

‘If I just sit there, he'll get used to me. I'll go and sit with him every day for a few hours. They're an intelligent breed – he'll soon realise I'm no threat.'

‘Dorothy, you're not going in there with him!'

‘No, for today and tomorrow I'll just sit outside. I'll have to go in at some point tomorrow to clean him out—'

‘Dorothy, you can't.'

She must have heard the concern in my voice for she put down book and bowl, came to me, put her arms around me and gave me a hug. Then she pointed with her finger at the unseen operation scar under her clothes. ‘We had a near-miss with my illness,' she said, ‘so I'm not taking any risks – don't worry.'

‘But Dorothy you saw what he was like.'

‘It was fear, Barrie. He was frightened. I looked into his eyes.'

‘Well I can't sit down there for hours but I'll come with you and stay for a bit,' I said.

‘I reckon we'll make faster progress if I go on my own,' she said.

‘You are joking!'

‘He didn't set off barking and snarling until you bobbed down close to him – up to then he'd been all right with me.'

‘I hadn't done—'

‘It was a man who threw him in front of the bus. And if that was his owner, can you imagine what else he's been through with him?' She went back to the door. ‘It's no good arguing, Barrie. I tell you what, if you let me do this my way, I'll agree to call him Bo.'

She picked up her book and bowl and set off down the garden.

After a couple of minutes I followed her and watched from a distance behind a shrub, armed with a broom for self-defence. But it wasn't needed.

The phone was ringing.

‘Oh, hello… Are you the gentleman that takes in dogs that need a home?'

Gentleman? ‘Yes, we do take in dogs.'

‘Um… this might be a waste of your time…'

I hope not.

‘I'm thinking of adopting a dog… but I'm not sure about it…'

I was about to say what a huge responsibility it was to take a dog into your family and that you need to be very sure about it.

‘… because I've never had a dog before.'

Oh. I could see why that would make somebody unsure.

‘Well, we all start somewhere,' I said. ‘We all have to have our very first dog.'

‘Yes. I hadn't thought of it that way. Who am I speaking to, please?'

‘My name's Barrie.'

‘My name is Thomas.'

‘Well, Thomas, how we normally operate is—'

‘It's Mr Thomas.'

‘Oh, sorry! I misunderstood.'

‘I should mention that I'm not looking for a big dog.'

I was about to say that is all we ever have when I checked myself. After all, down in the pen in the old barn was Lottie, the Lurcher cross. I wouldn't call her a big dog. And indoors was our Labrador cross, Larry, and most people wouldn't call him a big dog. And then there was Millie, who Charlie had brought to us, the World's Smallest German Shepherd.

‘Would you like to tell me a little more about yourself, Mr Thomas…?' I said.

Dorothy felt it would be useful for the future if we kept a note of how we handled troubled dogs, the approach we took with different problems and what worked and what didn't work.

With Bo she wrote this in the form of a diary.

DAY ONE: Brought to us heavily sedated. Barking, snarling in pen – fear aggression? Sat outside pen reading book two hours. Ferocious barking at first for some fifteen minutes, tailing off to occasional outbursts if I moved.

DAY TWO: Short burst aggressive barking at first. Sat and read for three hours. After one hour, moved chair close to pen so he could sniff my hand through wire if he wanted to – short outbreak of barking. Look of fear in eyes gone – now tilting head with puzzlement. I think curiosity is going to get the better of him. Had to go in the pen to clear it out. Slowly opened pen door – he backed away, tail between legs. Talked to him every so often in a calm voice – he clearly always listens. Can't say the same about husband!

DAY THREE: Bit of barking as I approached – partly because I think he was dozing and my sudden appearance startled him. Just half an hour sitting reading this time before going into pen. Came back later for second sit with book – very brief wag of the tail when he first spotted me then abruptly stopped, almost as if he checked himself because he shouldn't be wagging his tail. While reading this time I kept my hand up against the mesh. He sniffed it a couple of times then nudged it later. I pulled out my lead and held it up. I am sure I read in his face a mixture of expressions: some eagerness mixed with uncertainty. Opened door of pen: backed off two or three steps, paused, came forward two or three steps. Bobbed down holding out closed hand a little way. He sniffed it to discover a hidden bit of cheese. Took this, then in a minute another, then in a minute another. He is getting used to my hand. Can I now clip the lead on his collar? Yes!

DAY FOUR: Twenty minutes walk this morning, only five minutes yesterday on his first walk as he was looking apprehensive at being away from his now familiar surroundings.

DAY FIVE: Let him off lead? Garden securely fenced, can't get out – but will he come back to me if I call him? No, not yet. I had to go to him. Backed off – a surprise, as didn't back off in pen this morning. He's still not confident.

DAY SIX: Threw ball – looked at me as if I'm demented. Never been played with. Startled by sudden loud motorbike going by. Ran to gate, tried to clamber over – I didn't want to grab him. Talked quietly and tried to distract him by pretending to find something in grass. Calmed down, but he gave me a fright.

DAY SEVEN: Saw me coming and jumped up at wire, tail wagging. Can't help but think how a week ago this dog was to be euthanised because he was aggressive. If I'd been thrown under a bus, I would be aggressive. He has kind eyes.

I liked Mr Thomas – which was just as well because I would see a lot of him over the next few weeks.

Mr Thomas was a cautious man, which is a commendable quality in a person undertaking the task of identifying, from the thousands of homeless dogs available, one who would be suitable.

‘No doubt you have many questions you want to ask me,' said Mr Thomas on our first meeting, crossing his hands in his lap, shoulders back, ready for the cross-examination. And I liked it when he took his reading glasses out of their case and produced from a pocket of his suit jacket a list of questions he wished to put to me. ‘As I haven't undertaken dog ownership before,' he explained.

It was a long list. It started with the usual questions. What should I feed this dog? How often should I walk the dog? How long should the walks be? He was obviously a caring person concerned with the welfare of the dog and the quality of its life. It was when we were up to around question number thirty – and I realised that I'd missed
The Dukes of Hazzard
– that I thought it was actually time to meet a dog.

I remarked to Mr Thomas how fortuitous his timing was: that at the moment we had three dogs that might suit him as they weren't the large dogs we usually took in. But Mr Thomas and I had different ideas about what constituted a ‘large' dog.

‘Goodness – I only have a small house,' he said on meeting Larry, the Labrador cross. ‘I'd have to get a bigger car,' was prompted by the sight of Lurcher cross, Lottie. And ‘She would need a very big basket to be comfortable and stretch herself out,' was his response to seeing Millie, the World's Smallest German Shepherd.

Now, we never take the view that it is part of our function to persuade a prospective home to take either any dog or any particular dog. We're not in the business of ‘selling' our orphans. But if we feel a dog has certain attributes that would make it suitable for the prospective home, then by pointing these out we can help the prospective owner to come to an informed decision. And I had a feeling that Millie would suit Mr Thomas and that Mr Thomas would suit Millie.

‘Shall we take her for a short walk?' I suggested.

‘Oh yes. In fact I think I would need to come for several walks with a dog so that we were well acquainted with one another before I was to actually make a decision.'

‘Look at the dainty way she picks up her feet as she walks,' I pointed out helpfully. Dressed in a suit, I thought at first that Mr Thomas must have come straight from work to our meeting, but it transpired that he was retired and I surmised that he had put on a suit especially for his ‘interview'. I suspected that his terraced house would prove to be as neat as Mr Thomas when it came to the home inspection, which we now usually did as a matter of course, so I pointed out to him on our walk that with her short coat Millie would be unlikely to get too muddy on walks.

‘Oh, I'm not bothered about that,' was the response. ‘I've got plenty of time to brush her afterwards, and to vacuum up. No, what's important is that she should enjoy her walks.'

Good answer.

‘Would you like now to have a walk with one of the others?' I asked when we got back from the walk with Millie.

Mr Thomas smiled and shook his head.

‘Are you going to come another time then to walk Millie?'

Another smile and another shake of the head. Then a pause before speaking.

‘Mr Hawkins – she has stolen my heart.'

‘Oh.'

The day came at last when all Mr Thomas' preparations were ready for the new member of his family to move in.

We had learnt from experience it was a good idea to give the new owner some of the food we had been feeding the dog so that an abrupt change of food wouldn't upset its tummy. As I scooped out a few days' ration Mr Thomas said, ‘You know, Mr Hawkins, I don't know if this sounds silly but I feel guilty.'

I stopped what I was doing to listen.

‘Both the other two dogs you showed me were lovely dogs. I feel guilty at leaving them behind. I feel I rejected them when neither of them should be rejected. And they already have been.'

I had never heard it expressed like that before by a prospective owner. It struck me what a meditative man Mr Thomas was.

‘They'll be fine,' I said. ‘We'll find both of them good homes.'

‘Oh, don't misunderstand me, I don't have any doubts on that score. I just wish I could take them all.'

I finished scooping up dog food and handed Mr Thomas his supply.

‘You know, Mr Hawkins, of all the questions you asked me, you didn't ask the one I most expected you to ask.'

Really? Oh dear. What had I forgotten? My anxiety must have registered on my face for Mr Thomas rested a hand on my arm.

‘Oh, I didn't mean that as a criticism, dear man.' He paused for a moment. ‘I thought you would want to know why it was that I wanted a dog, especially as I had never had one before in my life.'

It was then that Dorothy appeared with Millie. She wasn't an exuberant dog, not the sort of dog who would bound up to somebody because she was pleased to see them, but she made a bee-line across the kitchen to the man who, in getting to know her, had taken her for so many walks. She jumped up at him, in her delight standing on his polished shoes, leaving a muddy scratch mark, and a muddy streak to match on his trousers with their sharp crease. This produced a broad smile on Mr Thomas' face. He gave her a gentle pat on the head – I had the impression he wanted to make a fuss of her but wasn't sure how to react. He would learn.

Dorothy and I walked him up the drive to his car, which he had left on the road.

He nodded in the direction of the seat that overlooked the pond. ‘May I sit and enjoy the view for a minute or two before I go?' he asked.

It was a surprising request. I had expected him to want to get off home. But I often myself took a few moments to sit and enjoy the setting of the village pond, overlooked by the Queen Anne farmhouse and its paddocks with horses grazing.

‘I must go and walk the other dogs,' said Dorothy. She held out her hand and Mr Thomas took it and clasped it for a moment or two.

‘It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hawkins,' he said. ‘I will look after Millie.'

‘I know you will.'

‘And I'll bring her back every so often for you to see, if I may. And for you to check progress,' he added.

Dorothy gave him one of her big, kindly smiles and went off. Before she disappeared from view round the back of the cottage she turned and gave Mr Thomas and Millie a wave.

Something in the pond prompted ripples on the water, diverting Mr Thomas' attention for a few moments. Then he turned back to me.

‘I'll have plenty of time on my hands to look after her, Mr Hawkins. My wife died last year and I have found that time hangs heavy. I feel that by giving a home to a dog that needs one I will be doing something useful with my empty days.' He looked down at his dog. ‘And I think she is going to brighten those days for me.' He looked up again. ‘Thank you.'