Talking of dogs...

Last Saturday, we were a bit too late to take Wilma down to the beach for a run, so I walked her a kilometre or so to a local public park. This park is bordered by State Highway 1 & used to be home to a couple of horses. In the last few years, it's been converted into a lovely little park area, with native trees, grasses & a couple of streams running through it.

Occasionally I come across other dogs & their owners, but not often.

This night though, as I arrived, there was a lanky character ahead of me, black jeans, tatty jersey, leather jacket, a beanie & white gumboots - he looked like a gang member out without his patch (that sounds judgemental, but bear with me a moment). He was with a dog that looked like it had some Staffordshire Bull Terrier in it.

As we approached, his dog came running up to Wilma, and so I let her off her lead. She & the staffy roamed ahead of the guy & as she passed, Wilma gave him a big smile.

The guy was still ahead of me, he'd looked around, but otherwise ignored us, and as he crossed the rickety bridge over one of the streams, he slipped. Turning, he gestured to me to be careful. I said "Thanks, I noticed you nearly slipped."

Over the bridge, the dogs played for a few moments, the Wilma went off looking for the other stream to splash in mud.

The guy approached, and as he did I noticed that he was bearded & had a droopy eye.

He asked me "Are you from SunnyO? I said that "yes, sometimes I'm from SunnyO, why do you ask?"

He said "Most people keep their dogs away from mine. For some reason they're scared of him."

I had to laugh to myself, because I'm quite sure people are more nervous about him, than his dog. I might have been myself, but Wilma giving him a big smile, when she'd take a wide berth around anyone posing a threat convinced me he was almost certainly harmless. As was his dog, which tellingly, was called "Ricky" rather than "Vengeance" or "Satan". A dead giveaway.