THE WRONG BALLS


My dog is incorrigible. My family, my friends, my vet and my trainers have already expressed this opinion and I think it is about time I accepted it. Lets face it, at the age of four, what you see is what you get with Hector (hopefully). Perhaps I should do something about him though as this week one poor man was grabbing for Hector’s balls whilst trying to protect his balls in case Hector got the wrong balls. Let me explain ..........

We have a nudist on our favourite beach and no it is not my favourite beach due to that fact. He has been popping up intermittently on Portelet beach for a couple of months now. All I can say is that he must have a very strong constitution, because if the less than summer like weather won’t kill him then the fathers on the beach with their families will! I’m no prude, but there again, Mr Nudist is no Adonis and it IS as described, a family beach. Even my normally very open minded husband emitted a Victor Meldrew type utterance upon view of him last week. Somehow, after Hector’s performance today, I don’t think he will be back in a hurry though.

Hector loves the beach. Swimming, digging, rock pool scrumaging and playing ball with any takers is what life should be all about according to my young Weimaraner. The only problem I have with him is actually getting him off of the beach and back home. Spectators are normally treated to the sight of my dog throwing himself down on the sand, screaming like he is being killed and doing a pretty good impression of a crocodile when rolling to kill something. Think of a two year old child having a tantrum and you get a pretty good impression of what it is like trying to get Hector up the stairs and to the van. One of these days I am going to get clobbered by someone who thinks I am mistreating him (am usually tempted by this stage). I’ve even had to resort to buying him an ice-cream to get him up off the ground and home.

Hence, I knew today’s routine of trying to get Hector off the beach was going to be no different. If anything it was going to be made even harder by the fact I was going to have to do my best to circle round Mr Nudist without diverting my eyes and keeping Hector away from him. I succeeded on the former and failed miserably on the latter. Some days I’d rather face the threat of nuclear holocaust then what Hector throws at me. Hector’s ball was duly gathered up by me and put in my pocket out of his reach. This way I had a slightly better chance of keeping him to heel in his mistaken hope that mummy was only joking and was going to give him his ball back.

I wasn’t the only one taking evasive action as I greeted a couple that had previously been obliging Hector with his ball playing. The three of us stopped to air our views about the inappropriate behaviour of Mr Nudist, when I decided to adjust my footing slightly. When discussing matters as strait faced as bare flesh, one has to have a certain air of authority about them and the correct posture is conductive to this. Split second later I am on my face. Might as well had one of those big Lottery fingers pointing over my head saying watch this as the seaweed on the stones was as slippery as hell. A further split second later Hector is thwarting my attempts at getting up by jumping on my back thinking this game is better than ball throwing anyway. At least I like to think that is what was going through his mind and not that it was spiteful retaliation for me with holding his ball. Never can be sure with a Weim. The couple were just giving looks that intimated that a woman being suffocated by her mad dog, would be a better dinner story then that of a nudist on the beach, when his confiscated ball plops out of my pocket. Beelzebub takes one look, counts his chickens and is off. He sure is hell not hanging round the very person that took it away from him in the first place.

As is a normal occurrence when out with my dog, I am helped to my feet by strangers. I am just wondering if sand really does make a good facial scrub when the woman firmly takes hold of my arm and says “look where he is going”. Oh crap, would rather Hector was trekking up the mist laden hills of Rwanda in search of Lowland Gorillas then where he is heading. Imagination v’s reality aside, he is still going to come face to face with something hairy and naked. Hector stops dead in front of Mr Nudist and drops his ball. He is ignored. He then does that “play with me NOW” double front paw stamp, with ears flapping. Mr Nudist then decides to play ball. Never thought there was anybody thicker than me alive. Can die happy knowing that there is now. Within minutes everyone present on the beach is looking at Nr Nudist doing the Floral Dance with a grey dog. Hector is over the moon. This man wants to play, doesn’t matter to him he has got no clothes on. Hector is chucking his ball up and catching it in mid air with snapping jaws all whilst trying to jump all over Mr Nudist in agreement of what a brilliant game this beach lark is. Mr Nudist, however, is just trying to preserve his manhood (think even he realised preserving any dignity was no longer an option) as first described at the beginning of this Tail.

I will admit there was a certain element of you deserved that in my delay in trying to recall Hector. Wasn’t all that keen anyway as even I have limits and one of them is trying to grab evasive objects (Hector and his ball) around naked men. The lady did kindly tell her husband to go and get Hector to spare me my blushes. He obviously had limits to. Taking care to moderate my language, I recalled Hector in my own unique way. Took a while though. I had the uncomfortable feeling that Hector only came back because Mr Nudist wasn’t that much fun hiding behind a rock now.

This time, instead of being stared at in my efforts of getting an objecting Hector off the beach, I thought I was going to be applauded. It was not the first time Mr Nudist has seen me and Hector on this beach, but I think it will definitely be the last. It will not be us that won’t be coming back either.

As a note to this Tail. It is not illegal for one to sunbathe nude on Jersey beaches, so long as you are causing no offence to the rest of the general public. It has to be asked why this man chose such a popular beach to indulge in his past time. The police have already been down to this beach about this man. Not that I could help them in describing his face! I know everyone has the right to walk/sunbathe/tango unmolested by people and their uncontrollable dogs. One of those occasions Hector went where Angels dare to tread. I think the general public were grateful to Hector on this occasion.