Canisfamiliaris

The online diary started life as a blog of my strange 'other life' with the dog. I wanted to record some of the experiences that I had as a first-time dog owner. To access the archive, click on the appropriate month. The most recent articles are listed separately.

You are most welcome to send comments about any of the articles. Record your comments via the Contact Me page.

REVERTING TO TYPE
Sun 09 May 2010

We all love our pets and think of them as members of the family. There are times when, in our minds, we bestow upon them human attributes, thinking of them as humans with the capacity for intelligent, rational thought and displaying human emotions. These anthropomorphic feelings about our pets are just fanciful thinking on our part, and, sooner or later, something happens to remind us that those pets we know and love are only just animals after all.

Take yesterday, for example. Beattie and I were doing one of our regular walks; so regular, in fact, that Beattie now explores the local fields when off lead, always on the lookout for something to chase. She spotted a couple of pheasants in a wheat field and was off to investigate in a flash before I could stop her. At this time of the year these birds are raising young and I try to discourage her from running off. She soon returned after a fruitless pursuit, and I decided that she should be put on her lead to prevent any other mishaps. Besides, I am sure that the gamekeeper would be rather upset to see his precious birds being harassed by a small, grey terrier!

I like to give Beattie as much freedom as possible when we are at home, as she spends her walks on her lead when we are in the Lake District. But I don’t want her being a nuisance to the local wildlife, so I usually keep my eyes open for any likely distractions. The problem is that when she decides she is going to run, she runs, and nothing I can say will make any difference.

Our way back lay through a wood, a haven for rabbits and game birds. I kept her on a reasonably short lead but, even so, was unable to stop her diving into the undergrowth at the side of the path. After a snuffle, she emerged, and I could see she had something in her jaws. I grabbed her and ordered her to ‘drop it’, which she did reluctantly. Then I could see that she had hold of a pheasant chick. Sadly, the chick had not survived, as it lay limp upon the ground.

I dragged Beattie away and was sorry that I had not anticipated the event. But it had all happened as quick as lightning and I realised I could have done nothing to prevent the incident. Beattie was displaying again, that she was just a terrier dog with all her predatory instincts finely tuned.

In fact, she was just reverting to type! Back

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REVERTING TO TYPE Sun 09 May 2010

REVERTING TO TYPE
Sun 09 May 2010