Wet, wet, wet

And now the hot weather is followed by torrential rainstorms and flood alerts. A typical British summer then.

The wet conditions cut short my walking duties yesterday, and I only managed to do three circuits with various dogs - so not much progress made on favourites again. A sweet black boy called Kevin is a strong contender, however he is already on the reserved list, so I suspect he won't be about next time I visit.

One dog that will probably not make it onto my favourites list is a tan bitch called Rosie. A better name for her would be Butch - she's big and strong and more tank than hound - and if she was human she'd either be a bouncer or a weight-lifter.

Rosie doesn't behave very well with other dogs, so she needs to be kept on a very tight lead whenever another greyhound comes into sight. (It's preferable if she doesn't see them at all).

She also has a pesky habit of jumping at least five foot into the air to try and shake the lead out of your hand - you really have to be on your guard around her.

Anyhow Rosie was my last walk of the day. I didn't expect her to be the last walk but the heavens opened about 2 minutes away from the kennels.

Now, we don't run with the greyhounds (can you accelerate from 0-40 mph in just a few steps?) but the rain was really torrential.

Should I run back? At this point dog-mountain Rosie was giving me disgusted looks and saying: "Can't you switch this weather off?"

"Run, I dare you," said Rosie. No way, thought I. Not sure it would be particularly cool to be dragged into the kennels by a charging Rosie, besides the scrages from the gravel would hurt.

I gave Rosie a hard stare and stepped up my pace - my trousers were soaked through at this point - and we got back to the kennels just before the thunder and lightning struck.

As there were other dogs in the yard Rosie had to be returned to her kennels immediately, but not before casting me a look which said: "Can't believe you didn't run, you are just such a chicken."

Shawn maligned!

I have to hang my head in shame, I've maligned Shawn. Poor boy, I accused him of blotting his copy-book and having a contretemps with Kenny.

I take it back! I walked Shawn and his white-and-brindle girlfriend Missy today, and when I came back Kenny, and partner Lass were in the paddock. I braced myself, and put both Shawn and Missy on a very short lead.

I walked the two dogs quickly past the paddock - at this point Kenny was barking his head off and leaning against the fence - to reciprocal barking and growling from... Missy. The little tinker!

I was quite surprised because if there's any arguing to be done - and to be honest, there's not an awful lot that goes on - it's usually between the male dogs (3 or 4 usual suspects). And Shawn will growl occassionally, although again, he usually growls while leaning heavily against my legs. In the previous incident one of the dogs had leapt at Kenny - and I just assumed it was Shawn. I feel SO guilty.

Anyhow, I took both Missy and Shawn a distance away from the paddock and gave them a good fuss. Every so often Missy would turn around and bark at Kenny. Kenny returned the favour.

Meanwhile Shawn cuddled in close and looked deeply into my eyes. "See I told you it wasn't me".

Sweet William

I have a bit of a soft spot for William, one of the white and brindle boys who has been at the kennels for a number of months now.

I wasn't always so fond of him. The first couple of times I took him for a walk I was a complete nervous wreck. William can be a growler and a barker, and he'll growl and bark at some other male greyhounds. He's quite a big boy, so you have to make sure you hold on TIGHT.

After he's gone to the toilet he'll gouge the ground raking up piles of earth. You can tell when William's been out, because there are deep scratch marks all the way down the sprint and around the paddocks.

I think, however, that William is just a bit confused, and all he needs is someone with patience, love and understanding to bring him out of himself. (And I hope they walk through that kennel gate sometime soon).

I came to this conclusion when I noticed that William wags his tail madly at a dog while barking and growling. A mixed-up boy if I ever saw one.

I've also discovered that you can usually calm him down by stroking his head and speaking calmly to him.

If there's one thing William loves is love, cuddles and attention. So, if you can find a quiet place to wait-a-while and have some cuddles and tickles, you'll be rewarded by just about the most vigorous tail-wagging you've ever seen.

There's another thing that he loves as well, and that's treats. William likes to do something akin to kangaroo-jumping for treats - he bounces up and down on his back legs just begging for you to give him something.

How could you resist?