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bloody hell. like i wasn't already stressed enough, we just got attacked by four loose dogs on our evening walk.
no one's hurt but Spike's back hair is still standing on end.
It was three Jack Russells and a staffie/pittie/boxer sort of adolescent male* puppything that all belong to a family of idiots that live three doors down from Spike's friends the Helyar Road Terriers. All walking down the fucking MAIN ROAD off-leash. I know these dogs by sight because the JRTs are always escaping and having to be returned to them. You know, mistakes can happen to anyone, but after the third or fourth time you return someone's lost dog in the space of six weeks you kinda realise they don't know their arse from their elbows.
and you know what else? I've had conversations with these people. They live like 200 yards away from me. They KNOW I take my dogs round the same little circuit several times a day. They KNOW Spike isn't good with big dogs because a. I've told them and b. he's had swearing matches with their puppything before. If I'd seen them coming I'd have taken off sharpish in the other direction but we basically collided head-on as we were coming round a corner.
Spike's fine with the JRTs, but he couldn't resist yelling obscenities at the puppything, which was kinda what started it - but if Puppything had been on a fucking LEASH it would have just been two barks from Spike and move on. I'd actually stopped him barking, only that was when the three loose JRTs piled in on us, and when they did that Puppything turned round and joined in too. And the owners were thirty yards behind their dogs, and when they got there I was holding Spike round the chest which was the only way I could restrain him, and he was struggling and snarling and there were JRTs everywhere and holy FUCK my arm's going to hurt when the adrenaline wears off.
the only good thing is that none of the dogs were hurt. the fight was one of those noisy theatrical dogfights where no one really wants to do damage, they just want to prove themselves the bigger dog. Trouble with terriers, though, is that once they get into something like that they don't always know when to stop.
this is going to be so damn helpful in encouraging Spike to be less bloody reactive, isn't it?
*headdesk*
*edit: apparently not male. I still haven't looked for myself, mind.
no one's hurt but Spike's back hair is still standing on end.
It was three Jack Russells and a staffie/pittie/boxer sort of adolescent male* puppything that all belong to a family of idiots that live three doors down from Spike's friends the Helyar Road Terriers. All walking down the fucking MAIN ROAD off-leash. I know these dogs by sight because the JRTs are always escaping and having to be returned to them. You know, mistakes can happen to anyone, but after the third or fourth time you return someone's lost dog in the space of six weeks you kinda realise they don't know their arse from their elbows.
and you know what else? I've had conversations with these people. They live like 200 yards away from me. They KNOW I take my dogs round the same little circuit several times a day. They KNOW Spike isn't good with big dogs because a. I've told them and b. he's had swearing matches with their puppything before. If I'd seen them coming I'd have taken off sharpish in the other direction but we basically collided head-on as we were coming round a corner.
Spike's fine with the JRTs, but he couldn't resist yelling obscenities at the puppything, which was kinda what started it - but if Puppything had been on a fucking LEASH it would have just been two barks from Spike and move on. I'd actually stopped him barking, only that was when the three loose JRTs piled in on us, and when they did that Puppything turned round and joined in too. And the owners were thirty yards behind their dogs, and when they got there I was holding Spike round the chest which was the only way I could restrain him, and he was struggling and snarling and there were JRTs everywhere and holy FUCK my arm's going to hurt when the adrenaline wears off.
the only good thing is that none of the dogs were hurt. the fight was one of those noisy theatrical dogfights where no one really wants to do damage, they just want to prove themselves the bigger dog. Trouble with terriers, though, is that once they get into something like that they don't always know when to stop.
this is going to be so damn helpful in encouraging Spike to be less bloody reactive, isn't it?
*headdesk*
*edit: apparently not male. I still haven't looked for myself, mind.
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