Something is wrong here. Two months and I am yet to see a stray dog. It is very shocking for me not to find a stray dog. I have lost the ability to walk carefully on the road and be very wary of corners with lurking dogs. I am not sure whether I will adapt to them when I go back – dogs there may have forgotten who I am and I would have re-acquaint myself with a packet of Marie biscuits.
The only time I have come closest to ‘stray dogs’ are when they are posing on the pavement with a lost look. I see one or two of them tied elegantly, by some who have taken a course on tying the sailor’s knot, outside the local co-operative. I have vastly improved my knowledge on the varieties of dogs here. Though I still fall flat on my face when I ask the dog–owner “Are they Chihuahua’s?” when they are actually the Great Dane,
Dogs are very well handled here. They are always on a leash –except the one in Charterhouse and one near Farncombe Boathouse. Actually what is worrisome are the stray cats.
They pop up from nowhere and cross your path with impunity. To add insult to your possible injury in side-stepping their claws is the imperious look they give on perching themselves on the nearest giant of a waste basket which the Waverly Council has thoughtfully supplied each house with.
They are not exactly stray in that sense of the word. They probably are owned by some cat-lover in the neighbourhood. Most them I have seen, in spite of the looks they bestow upon me, have some sort of pink coloured collar. A certain cat-lover lost her cat – a black one with white socks. I later learnt that it actually meant white coloured paws. I thought given the vagaries of weather here cats are equipped with woolen socks to help them wander in the countryside with no worry to getting a cold.
No wonder it is said that you own a dog and have a cat.