Thursday, 26 September 2013

Leaving the lead...

It's the moment when my body decides to detonate almost every counter productive reaction that's within it's power.  It starts with my face burning and my eyes watering.  Then, there's the shaking hands, so unsteady that I can't unclip the fastening.  Then, there's my heart, beating so fast that I think I'm going to faint.  Perhaps it's good that these things happen.  I suppose that it means I care about what I'm about to do.

To unclick or not to unclick that is the question...

Sometimes, I lean down to unclick the lead and then stand up again, thinking better of the situation.  Sometimes I unclick it and then think better of the idea and clip it back on 5 seconds later.  Sometimes, if I'm feeling brave the whole head collar comes off but, more often, the headcollar stays on.  I'm not sure how that's supposed to stop him running after things but it gives me, at the very least, some sense of control.

'It's not fair - you take me off then you make me sit!'

What's my worst fear?  Oddly, it's that he runs over to and bothers another dog and owner.  Caesar has a very lumbersome and clumsy approach to everything and would fly at other people and dogs as if he were a miniature poodle - I don't think he always realises that he weighs almost twenty-five kilograms.  This worry is slightly ironic given that the same often happens to me when I have him on the lead.  I haven't got enough fingers to count the amount of times I've ended up wrapped up with Caesar screaming because someone else has let their dog bother us.  Or had to drag him backwards down a path to get away from the dog that is trying to sniff him.

Has anxiety made me too protective and controlling?  Or am I simply doing my duty as a responsible owner?  Perhaps I'll never know where the line lies.