4 Feb 2008
Bradley Viner
Job Title
She’s well accustomed to other dogs, having attended my puppy classes from an early age. She spends much of her day sitting in the branch surgery attached to my house, greeting owners and their pets as they come into the clinic. She barks like mad to be let in once she hears clients arrive, and rather thinks she owns the place.
Things are a little different outdoors. It all started when a series of randy young Labradors took a fancy to her, and tried to mount her. I’m not sure statistically what that says about the breed, since here in the green outskirts of London just about every second dog is a retriever of one type or another.
This has not been to Cleopatra’s liking, and each time she has run off and plonked her bum firmly on the ground until the dog has been taken back under control by its owner. This has now developed into a full-blown “Labrophobia”, where she dives into the bushes every time a Labrador comes running towards her.
A couple of weeks back, the Dominatrix and I were out strolling in the open spaces of Ruislip when Cleo attracted the attention of yet another oversexed Labrador. She ran off into the undergrowth and stuck her bum firmly into a bush as he tried to mount her, but eventually the offending dog responded to our shouts and the calls of the middle-aged couple out walking him and ran back to them. He then immediately turned back to harass poor Cleo again, before eventually being called away. The third time he did it, Cleo growled a warning at him, something she had never done before.
At this point, I very politely suggested to the dog’s owners that they might like to put him on a lead, as it seemed the only way of controlling him.
In response, we received a torrent of abuse, mainly from the wife – or perhaps fishwife would be a more accurate description. I had to restrain the Dominatrix, to prevent her from launching into a full-scale counter attack, as it would obviously serve no purpose. We put Cleopatra on her lead and walked away, with further waves of expletives following us.
The following week, I was walking Cleo in the woods opposite our house, and I could hear barking and baying in the distance, as if a pack of foxhounds was preparing for the chase.
As I rounded a corner, two muzzled German shepherds came rushing along the path towards us, followed by an unmuzzled collie.
I could hear the owner calling them in the distance, and I tried to reassure Cleo and get her lead on her.
But the two German shepherds fell upon her as if they were going to tear her to pieces, with the collie doing what collies do – yapping and sticking in the odd nip. If Cleo had any aggression in her, she could have torn the pair to pieces – they had no means of defending themselves against a counter attack.
The owner came panting up after them, but Cleopatra panicked and bolted off into the undergrowth, with the three dogs in hot pursuit.
“I know they’re muzzled, but you really ought to keep them under control,” I said to the young guy supposedly in charge of them, frustrated and upset for Cleo, but secure in the knowledge that it would secure no useful purpose.
“You should keep your own dog under control,” he retorted with hostility. I turned to try to retrieve my petrified dog, to the sound of expletives ringing in my ears.
Many dog owners are unable to engage in any sort of rational conversation about behavioural problems relating to their dogs when conflicts arise.
It seems there are many parallels between the primaeval reaction of road rage and the response from dog owners when the behaviour of their beloved pet comes under criticism. I’ve always envied the likes of Cushing and Addison, with syndromes all of their own to guarantee them immortality, so I wondered: “Please may I be the first to coin the term ‘Rover rage’?”
We don’t seem to experience the same sort of reaction when we discuss canine misbehaviour in the consulting room; maybe owners see it as some sort of confessional.
Our relationship with dogs goes back a whole lot further than it does with the internal combustion engine, but both do seem to be an extension of our own egos. Perhaps the female link to a pet is even more marked, as few women impose their maternal instincts upon a vehicle, but I suspect it may be behind their protectiveness of their pets.
It’s not just dogs and cars that bring out this type of behaviour. For example, a survey carried out by Kent Norman at the University of Maryland discovered that more than 20 per cent of computer users have wanted to throw their monitors out of the window and 80 per cent curse their computer out loud. Around 10 per cent have taken this as far as physically damaging their computer, either by throwing it on the floor, kicking it, smashing the screen or ripping out cables.
So much pent-up aggression. Perhaps it’s an inevitable part of living in our high-pressure society – but how can it be relieved? A session at home stroking our pets is probably the ideal antidote. I certainly find having a Bernese mountain dog squeeze herself on to my lap for a cuddle works wonders. She’s the perfect pet – and I won’t have anyone say otherwise.
• Email [email protected] to contact Bradley.
After giving a few amorous Labradors the cold shoulder, Bradley’s Bernese mountain dog has developed a phobia.
