Tip’s First Trip …….. and First Dip

My seemingly uneventful afternoon in mid November had started with Tip’s first trip out.

It was to end with one soggy doggy and his dog sitter literally ‘in the dog house!’

Up to this moment I had never realised that dog sitting was so complicated or difficult.

I had always presumed that dog walking was all about putting your coat on, calling your super-obedient hound and striding out with him loyally stalking your heel.

This is not my current experience and it was not to be my experience when I ventured beyond the confines of our garden for Tip’s very first trip.

Following a successful vaccination visit in mid November, it was now possible to take Tip, our 12 week old border collie, out on to the North Yorkshire byways for the first time.

There was a big world right outside our garden gates, just waiting for him to explore. It was time to leave his toys behind and head out to enjoy this more natural playground.

Having volunteered to try to walk him most days I got the privilege of taking him out for the first time.

I really should have known that it would not be that simple, especially when he immediately refused point blank to go out of the garden gate onto the B road that runs passed our property.

Though only a puppy Tip has developed a very determined streak already.

When he doesn’t want to move he will sit with all 4 paws planted firmly on the ground and with his ears back.

At the same time he gives you a Clint Eastwood-type stare as he seems to say “Good luck my friend: ‘make my day’ and make me move ….. if you can!”

So how was I going to get this rascally dog to move?

I had already learnt that there were only 3 possible solutions to this Mexican standoff with Tip.

1. Drag him by the lead: something I will NEVER do.

2) Allow him a few minutes and he will naturally move of his own accord.

3) Pick him up and carry him for a few paces to ‘break’ his non compliant behaviour.

I generally lean towards a mixture of approaches 2 and 3 as my default response and lavish him with praise when he starts to move obediently or when I can distract him and actually get him moving where I want him to go.

On this particular day I picked up the defiant dog, carried him through the gates and set him down on the tarmac.

Having negotiated this new psychological barrier Tip now proceeded to trot along compliantly as we explored his ‘brave new world’.

We headed happily up the lane.

The sights and smells of a late autumn afternoon in the Dales mesmerised Tip.

Sheep, cows and horses gave him a curious glance as we walked passed their fields.

So much to see for this wide eyed puppy.

He outstared a young bullock: admittedly from the safe vantage point of a stile in the dry stone wall.

We steered well clear of the carcass of a long dead hare, sadly ‘flat-packed’ on the tarmac.

Thankfully the clusters of toadstools growing on the verge held little attraction to Tip.

Taking my photos whilst holding him on a short lead was proving tricky. I made a mental note that I would need to teach him ‘stay’ whenever I wanted to take a photograph. I also noted that Tip would also need to be very patient with me as I once again hopelessly messed up my camera settings..

As cars approached us Tip would obediently retreat to the verge and ‘sit’ consistently on my command. As the cars drew abreast with us, he would then try to chase them of course.

Cue Tip’s next life lesson: having cracked ‘sit’ we now definitely need to introduce him to ‘stay’ within both camera and road traffic situations.

Amazingly we had now been out for nearly an hour and had only covered about 3/4 of a mile. This was not my usual pace when walking. We were still some way off the highest point on the road so I broke into a jog and Tip gambolled along beside me.

A lone cyclist approached us as we turned for home on the summit of our lane.

Tip was intrigued by this new vehicular experience and took up his usual wary position on the verge. As Les the cyclist drew to a stop to greet him, Tip gave out his first audible bark.
Wagging his tail ferociously, Tip then allowed Les to fuss over him as he and I swapped pleasantries.

Ten minutes later Les and I wished each other well and went off in our separate directions.
The journey home for Tip and I was easy: downhill all the way and we jogged along together.

It was starting to get dark.

As seems often the case in these parts, I was rewarded for my late afternoon’s walk with a spectacular sky as dusk took control.

Once back in the sanctuary of our garden I relaxed and decided to allow Tip off the lead.

I realised my mistake almost immediately.

Tip streaked across the lawn to the pond’s edge where our 5 ducks were swimming. These ducks had been incubated and hatched at home in Lockdown 1 by my daughter Rosie who now lives next door to us us in our new Yorkshire Dales home.

Tip bolted along the bank of the pond as the ducks delighted in taunting him; all from the safety of the water of course.

They edged ever nearer to him secure in their knowledge that he couldn’t touch them.

And that was when he jumped!

Straight into the pond.

The ducks squawked hysterically and for a second I held my breath as Tip disappeared under the water.

Suddenly, just like a cork up he bobbed and like ‘a duck to water’, Tip swam swiftly and strongly to the shore and climbed out, soaking me with smelly pond water in the process as he shook himself dry.

So it was that ‘Tip’s first trip’ culminated with his ‘first dip’ and a subsequent ‘bath in a box’ as I held him and Rosie washed him down.

Poor Rosie. The whole experience had wrecked her afternoon plans.

For Rosie, ‘working from home’ had now become ‘washing from home’.

As Rosie lathered Tip in shower gel, (she had no dog shampoo at the time) I reflected that this soggy doggy was going to enjoy many more adventures and I was privileged to be at the heart of them with him.

As I headed in for a cup of tea Rosie’s reprimand rang in my ears: “Dad! You were only supposed to be out for half an hour. 2 hours is too much for Tip at this age.’

I headed indoors with ‘my tail between my legs’. I knew I was ‘in the dog house’ with my own daughter and Tip had got off scot free.

I glared at Tip.

Butter wouldn’t melt in the eyes of that pesky hound as he stared sweetly and knowingly back at me.

After 2 hours and the grand total of one mile of walking I was pretty tired. The guy who who walks 20 plus kilometres in a day had finally met his match after just 2!

The next day, as a peace offering, I bought Rosie and Will a bottle of dog shampoo and consoled them with the thought that at least next time Tip chases the ducks they will be better prepared for the clean up!

I also reminded them that they should be thanking me: thanks to me they now knew that Tip could swim.

My gate-stand off with Tip was to resume the very next day. He planted all 4 feet and flattened his ears.

Thankfully Norman, our 6 month old Brahma chick was the ideal distracter this time and I could avoid resorting back to my options 2 or 3.

I realised that training this particular puppy could easily turn out to be as long as my career in teaching.

Of course, I can’t grumble about Tip for too long. because once he gives me that fantastic welcome of his, I am totally smitten.

The lad who has never owned a dog has finally started to understand what the fuss is all about!

Thanks for the read. I hope you enjoyed it.

Cheers Martin …….. and Tip of course.

PS Don’t forget you can read more on my exploits in North Yorkshire with Tip on my WordPress website.

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Until next time, take care and make sure you enjoy the start of winter.

Christmas is coming!