Wednesday 25 June 2014

The worst guard dog in the world...

"How do you think Caesar would react if you were attacked?" asked my sister one afternoon as we sat drinking orange and chatting about a plethora of unrelated things.  Allowing one aimless topic to run seamlessly into another.



If I'm honest, it isn't the first time that I've allowed my mind to ponder the subject.  Caesar himself being 22kg and built like a buffalo would be a deterrent I had thought for almost any thug who might come my way.  But was I sure he would protect me?  I'd like to think he would but if I was being truly honest with myself - I think he'd probably just cry.



Equally, with burglars, I was sure that Caesar would frighten them before they realised what a noisy yet harmless lump of dog he is.  He may scare them by being overly boisterously friendly I thought.  Or by just walking into the room while they were there.

It was odd that a few days later, I noticed a post on a Facebook forum from a lady who had come in to find her back gate and door open.  She assumed she must have been burgled but that they had fled when seeing the dogs as nothing had been taken.  I nodded in agreement.  I should hope that this would be the case should we ever find ourselves in this horrible situation.

A wolf in sheeps clothing?  - probably the other way round!

I felt weird driving home at lunch time.  And annoyed with myself for leaving a file that I needed on my coffee table.  Cursing as I pulled up to the house, I strutted up the front drive praying that the file was where I thought it was so that I could get back to work quickly enough to get a bit of lunch.  I flung open the front door and dashed in quickly to find the house in complete silence.  'Good' I thought, assured that I hadn't been annoying the neighbours with nuisance barking.  After pausing for a second to think, I hurried into the front room.  The file wasn't on the coffee table.  Underneath?  I thought desperately and began unpacking boxes and pulling things out from beneath.  I banged and clattered as folders, notebooks and box files fell to the ground.  Finally, I saw the file and yanked it out.  I stopped to look at it.  Silence.

The house felt eerie.  Usually, I'm followed around everywhere by a ginger shadow.  But there I was...alone.  Sitting surrounded by boxes and paper that I'd rifled through.  And where was Caesar?  Who knows!

Was he knocking out the Zzzzz s?

About fifteen minutes after I'd come, I jumped in the car and drove back to work.  As I mindlessly steered down familiar streets, I began to worry.  What if Caesar was trapped somewhere?  What if he was injured or ill?  Not wanting to disturb him, I'd left him alone wherever he was.  I hadn't even peeped around the door to see where he was.  

I'm pleased to say that, at the end of the day, he was there with his wagging tail waiting for me.  But, where he was that lunch time, I can only guess...




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