Dog Day Evening

Our Elsie was a lovely dog. Out of the ranks of residents at the local RSPCA shelter she was the only one not putting on a bit of a show under the gaze and exclamations of 'oohh' and 'aah' from visitors and patrons. Understandably, really, given her abandonment with her brothers and sisters in a hole in the eastern part of the city only days before. The idea of taking on a dog had been in our minds for some time. I had been brought up with one in the house and as part of my chores although my wife was more of a cat person to tell the truth. We had just moved into our first house together, a very small and newly damp-proofed and plastered old cottage on the busy through road of a village. The location was close to the first junction of the M62 motorway at its eastern end and we often felt that users just ignored the need to moderate their speed from 70mph to 30mph on passing our front door. This made for some interesting night time sounds of frantic deceleration, braking, invariably a skid and an impact either with the bridge parapet at a turn in the road or the display window of local shop just beyond. We were however out in the country with an open view to fields behind and good walks just at the end of the garden. A dog would be a nice compliment for our new life. Elsie, duly named loosely after a Coronation Street character and because we donated £10 to the charity's costs, therefore and tenously Elsie Tenner, was brought home after completing her course of innoculations in the spring of 1987. My wife went out that first night and did not witness the truly frightening and intimidating incident that, in retrospect, was me and Elsie setting our territory and establishing our respective roles in what was a 17 year relationship. As Allison left for a meeting I sat quietly on the settee with the diminuitive terrier type hound just sniffing around familiarising herself with her new surroundings. We were not sure what breed Elsie was. Rough, coarse multi coloured coat, long muzzle, bushy tail and huge paws. Perhaps an Airedale puppy or a sheepdog collie,but more likely a cross with anything loose on the housing estate where she came from. I was sat quietly watching TV when suddenly Elsie went berserk. She crouched down on her front legs, hind quarters in the air and growled ferociously at me. I laughed at first at the performance but Elsie was determined and intent on a showdown. She pounced at the settee and tore around me in a whirlwind of fur, tail and ungainly paws in a series of ever decreasing circles. I feared for my extremities and gradually edged off the seat cushions to end up sitting on the floor with the settee at my back. First ground won by Elsie and she knew it. I was now literally cornered against  an immoveable object. The demented dog then shot out into the darkness of the front room obviously for a few victory laps before resuming her kettling of me. I assumed the position of a hedgehog in a tight ball which only served to annoy Elsie now confident in her dominance but deprived of her equivalent of a definitive kill. She pounced around me growling and with a good imitation of a snarl but comical for something so small and clumsy. I was firmly rooted to the seated position, unable to drag my sorry carcass up and for an escape to the nearest refuge afforded by the lobby to the downstairs bathroom. I had to distract the dog and hopefully diffuse the situation which was becoming uglier by the minute. Being a new arrival we did not have a ready supply of dog treats or chews in the cottage with which to bribe Elsie nor any squeaky toys or bouncy balls to turn the conflict into a play opportunity. In the days pre-mobile phones any call for assistance to Allison or the Puppy Pound were not an option. The house phone was in the front room,but as far as I was concerned, across the border in Elsie controlled territory. I decided to play dead and see what happened. Elsie continued on her rise to power but soon became either bored or tired. Some 30 minutes later she was calm and concentrated on licking away hair-balls from between her chunky paws. By the time Allison came home the natural colour had returned to my face and circulation was restored to my folded limbs although not without much discomfort from pins and needles and cramps. I gave a short version of the evenings events. I had considered keeping quiet but Allison sensed that something had kicked off . Whatever had transpired it had been necessary for me and Elsie to go through the rituals and establish the ground rules and pecking order for what was to be a tremendous relationship and sense of mutual respect and understanding that can only really exist between one man and his dog.