Testosterone Surge or Bad Behaviour (probably the latter!)

After nearly 11 years of our partnership I thought I have seen and done with all his turd type behaviour, but oh no, not my Wontis he goes and has be ploughing farrows in the hedgerow with my nose all because he has decided he doesn't like the rams on our walk!

He is fine with the headland shaggy sheep with huge horns that run free, but the big buggers than inhabit the field along our walk have suddenly become a threat to him.  It was bad enough when they were in the field that was eye level to us on the road as believe me, as a veteran of being knocked for six by a pretty little Bo Peep, I know just how confrontational rams can be.  One particular ram would come to the fence and face Hector who was more than up for a spot of scissors, paper, rock believe me.  The fact that there was the equivalent of three foot chicken wire separating the two of them made me nervous enough to persuade Hector that losing face to Mr Ram was a lot better than losing his dinner from Mummy.  I did make it worth his while in the end but I am not sure how long the nail scrape marks will take from disappearing from the tarmac where I dragged him away.

Ever since he has started this vendetta and I am not sure it is purely one sided on his behalf, I have had to either rush past on the opposite side of the road past the field in question or go another way.  The toady even located the new field Mr Ram has been moved to by suddenly doing the equivalent of the Goose Step whilst trying to home in on the air scent he was locating with his nose raised towards the heavens.  Actually, having said that, if he Carry's on being a prize turd he might be seeing heaven a lot sooner than anticipated.  He even tried to jump the wall from a stand still to get to it and I could not see over it (I'm five foot one and a half if I breath in on a good day).  This was enough to make me realise he really has a problem with this ram.

Today, no problem, after risking arrest by being suspiciously peeping over every hedge and wall in the country lane, I relax as Mr Ram no present anywhere.  Must stop this telepathic connection I have with my dog cause you know what they say.......don't speak so soon.  The next thing I know I am face first down in the newly seeded hedgerow literally making furrow with my nose.  I have used his harness today on the road bits as its too hot for halters and I do not use collars alone with having to walk the two of them together.  The evil weed has used his full body weight against his harness to pull his plough like owner up and over the hedge to Mr Ram's new abode.  The fact that the farmer was just giving it some hay did not make my appearance any more dignified or my language any less blue.  In fact it is amazing how you can still swear and threaten instant punishment with a mouth as well as nose full of grass seed and soil.  To make matters even worse, Tilly totally freaked and decided that she wanted no part of the proceedings and headed the other way, which would of been fine with me if she had not been attached to my other arm by means of her lead.

Without offending anyone, my two dogs literally crucified me for good this time.

So, returning to my original question under the heading of this post, do you think it's a testosterone problem between the two of them or a problem with Hector's behaviour in general?  Actually, thinking about that question and knowing my dog, maybe I better delete this post altogether as I may not like the answer :-)

Stressed!!!!

Was really looking forward to a peaceful day today as Jersey had an extra bank holiday Monday off yesterday as, being the only part of English soil occupied in WWII, it celebrates it's liberation day on May 9th each year Although this is a very worthy holiday and long may it be celebrated it meant I had an extra day of Colin at home with Tilly.  Was rather pleased to hear the alarm this morning knowing it meant cessation of hostilites till next weekend as Colin was back at work!

I thought I would take advantage of a lovely day by not driving anywhere but walking to our sand dunes with the two evils. They were quiet well behaved walking on lead with no halters (too hot) and even though Tilly did her usual river dance at the side of the main road, impatient at having to wait for the big, fast noisy things in the way to dissapear before she twitters accross, she controlled herself nicely hence I only had to get the "T" out of her name before she tucked herslef neatly behind me (this is usually an evil chance at trying to trip me up from behind mostly)
Hector never once tried to dislocate my arm thinking the cricket practice area is soley set up for his ball retrieving skills and the mad one was only borderline hysterical at the site of two bright orange bouys floating in the small pump station pond.  Either way it was probably rather stupid of me start to relax thinking I would enjoy a peaceful walk
Got as far as the golf course, which was packed as per usual during working hours and Hector decides to do "jobs" on the top of a dune as if he particularly wanted an audience. Colin must of let him eat grass yesterday because this "job" turned out to be a long "job" of the stringy grass kind that needs a helping hand to be evicted. Guess I looked really normal chasing a dog around who has decided that making mum run around him in circles makes her look more of a turd that then one he is trying to omit Sheer determination made be grab it and bag it and walk away with some resemblance of pride at not falling flat on my face in it.

Decided to go over to the opposite side of the due to avoid anymore humiliation as there is this lovely big dune that falls away to a lake that mine love. Tilly, in her wisdom decides to start doing the wall of death run and runs right off the top of the dune and it was like waiting for the plop of the stone falling into the well to judge how deep it is, except the plop was screaming as it fell. I was just bellowing my opinion of her actions along the line of "you stupid ***** dog" when this lady appears behind me and asks if I am ok as she has heard me screaming (that was not me it was Tilly on her way down to terra firma) shouting for a dog called Fudge which definately was me but was not calling my dog Fudge but rather calling it a fudging dog if you get my drift.

Have to excuse myself to look over the edge of the dune to make sure Tilly is alive and well enough for me to make it down there and kill her for scaring me. When finally at the bottom and empty my trainers full of sand I put both the buggers back on the lead and decide to go home as I am getting that nervous tick that only arises when about to have a melt down. Just as I am about to get back to civalisation, Tilly decides she wants the stick Hector is carrying and Hector decides to push the point that not only mum considers her a silly bitch by landing her one, which produces more screams from her and another audience of dog walkers pulling their little darlings to safety away from the big grey thinkgs trying to kill each other and the mad lady trying to kill strangle them
They were walked home in total silence and I thought the second looks I was getting from other people was due to the vision of two beautiful looking dogs being walked by an equally stunning looking owner. Its wasn't the case however because when I did fannly make it home I screamed at the sight of me in the mirror as I keep forgetting not to wear lip gloss when there are loads of midges around as my lips looked like I had gone head first in the pick and mix
It was when Colin got home I got the headache as he was horrified at my response when he asked if I had had a good day