One way or another our sighthound Walter will be the death of me.
In the last week he’s got into two near fatal scrapes which he escaped by pure dumb luck.
Last Thursday what started out as an everyday humdrum walk in the park turned into a major incident when Walt slipped his collar after being spooked by a pitbull and ran into the rush hour traffic outside Williamson Park.
I honestly don’t know how he wasn’t killed there and then.
Dogs like him view life in slow motion but a skittish hound skipping in and out of 30mph traffic doesn’t usually end well.
After 20 seconds of trying to coax him back, he thought it was a game and started woofing and jumping up and down on a traffic island.
He’s that fast he can run 30 yards in the time it takes us to blink so one false move and he’s dead – and if he ran under a car then I’d have to watch him die.
It was all a bit much for 8.45 on a Thursday morning.
Then our saviour arrived out of nowhere.
A lady who was walking past knelt with me for 10 minutes while we coaxed Walter back with little cubes of cheese and his rubber ball on a rope I carry on walks.
Let me tell you, 10 minutes is a long time when your daft hound is off his lead while traffic thunders past five yards away.
Eventually Walt came close enough for his guardian angel to grab him.
Honestly, dear reader, I could have married her.
She saved his life, and if she’s reading this, our family will never be able to thank her enough.
A few days earlier Walt almost got me killed when it was time to go back on his lead after his third walk of the day, a switch flicked in his head and he started chasing other dogs for sport.
His head had gone and he was in the dog out of a trap zone.
One large and handy looking gentleman bellowed at me: “If that thing touches my dog I’ll f****** chin you.” And I had no reason to doubt him.
Eventually a very understanding owner of a three-legged lurcher caught him.
We haven’t been back since.
It’s been a tough week.