Run like hell...

The husband has had a field day this weekend, reminding me of the drunken faux pas of Friday evening.  I on the other hand, have been trying to forget it, so what better way to distract us both than a bracing walk along the beach in the company of other like minded folk.

It was the Susie-Belle Memorial Walk on West Wittering beach yesterday - this walk sits very closely with the Schnauzerfest walk which we do later in the year, with the same organisation benefitting from any money which may be raised.  This is DBARC (www.dbarc.org.uk) and what they do for dogs less fortunate than mine is nothing short of a miracle.

I had suggested to my best friend, Mrs S, that she might bring her dog Ralph down, as he'd never been to the beach before.  He'd also never seen a million schnauzers in one sitting, so I would imagine he'll be counting their fuzzy grey beards in his sleep for some time yet.  Now Ralph is extremely well behaved, whereas my two are like a couple of prisoners released on licence who have fathomed out how to remove their tags.

And here is where the husband and I differ.  I like to leave the dogs on their leads and walk around the circular walk, whereas the husband likes to let the dogs off their leads so that they can run free.  Experience has taught me that my two are pretty good at 'running free', and this is normally followed up with 'disappearing'.  But the husband was adamant that this time, the boys would come back when called.

Foolish man...

Percy disappeared within fourteen seconds of being let off his lead, heading for his favourite bit, the sand dunes, where all the other ne'er-do-wells hang out.  Reg ran towards the first dog he came to and went right in with his chat up line of, 'Fancy a fumble or a scrap?'  This is his fail safe approach with every dog he chances upon, and I'm sure he works on the basis that if he throws enough mud, some might eventually stick.

Mrs S and I watched the husband running up and down the beach chasing one dog and then the other, until he eventually succumbed and put them both on their leads. He then walked them for about twenty yards before sitting them down for a good talking to.

'Right you two.  I'm going to let you off the lead now, but if there's any running off, you'll be straight back on'.

As the lead clips were released, Reg headed for a Bull Mastiff, who was having a quiet paddle, and did a passable impression of the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz, with a slightly Germanic version of 'Put 'em up. Put 'em up'.

Percy disappeared over the horizon.

As did the husband in hot pursuit, while Mrs S and I were doubled over laughing our little socks off...