SWAT

 You all know something of the dogs of St Ives. There are lots of them because people love their dogs, and want them to be with them on holiday. They feel almost as though the dog were another child in the family, and they would never consider leaving a child at home while everyone else goes away.  If you look at the holiday cottage websites, there will be something in there about dogs being welcome, or dogs not being welcome. Only they say it very kindly, like, "Regrets, no pets".

 I don't mind the dogs of St Ives because they seem unusually well behaved. The only trouble seems to be if one little dog sees another little dog. Then there is noise. But everyone else in the doggie world of St Ives is smashing. There is something soft about the way they look at you, something obedient. I can't really nail down what I mean, so you'll just have to come down here and see them for yourself.

The Rather Stunning Son, filming a dog of St Ives

The reason I am bringing them up right now is because something unusual, something about a dog, happened today.

There is an especially nice walk, a particularly steep walk that I like to take because walking straight up the Steep will improve your life in lots of ways. You become stronger and breathe easier. So, I headed up toward the highest Parking Lot in town. There are tons of parking lots above the town, very well organized and accessible online so that you can pay for a spot while you are sitting at home with your computer.

The highest parking lot is nice because just beyond it there are horses which I feel a kinship with. Whenever I approach, they walk up to me. Isn't that nice? Only I always forget to bring along a carrot or sugar cube, so they end up walking away again.

This morning I noticed a car blocking the path, with its trunk open. As I walked, suddenly a fierce growl came from the vicinity of the trunk. A man, dressed in the garb of a SWAT team, saw me, and said very deliberately, "You'll want to be moving away from here now, Madam." 

He was holding onto the thick collar of an enormous German Shepherd, whose growl was becoming scary now. It was looking at me. 

Have you ever been looked at by a fierce German Shepherd? There was purpose in that look. Like perhaps it wanted to eat me.

"Where were you hoping to go?" asked the man.

"Just - up. But I think I'll go back down now."

"I would, if I were you. But don't run."

"Oh. yes sir," I said, wanting very much to run. It took considerable self control not to, what with all that growling and barking. I was thinking what it would feel like if it got me from behind. It wasn't pretty.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady