Thursday, March 29, 2012
Weird Dog Telepathy Guy
As I’m strolling about the neighbourhood conjuring up strategies to avoid Mr Do Something, I’ve taken to being surprised by Weird Dog Telepathy Guy.
He’s been popping up for weeks now, ambling round a corner suddenly or manifesting out of nowhere in the middle of the street like a phantom gating in from The Beyond.
He’s nothing much to look at himself — a young surfer boy type with a taste for gangly limbs — but his dog is something else entirely. Corgis and beagles, I recognise instantly, along with most breeds of ‘-tian’ pooch and the occasional novelty lurcher, but the anatomy of the dog accompanying Weird Dog Telepathy Guy leaps from the pages of no I Spy Book of Pets.
Tall and slender and wiry, it glides along the pavement like a cat, leading with its anteater snout and swishing its tail behind it like a whip. Not once have I seen it bound to its owner’s hand by a leash, and never has he prompted it to sit, “walk on” or perform, all of which leads me to conclude that either its sleek skull is fitted with a navigation device of some kind — or the guy who would otherwise simply be Weird Dog Guy is telepathic, issuing silent commands from beneath his beach-look blond locks.
Maybe, next time we meet up, I should try to distract the dog — by lying down in its path, perhaps, or juggling some tins of Pedigree Chum while barking like Lassie on heat. If there truly is some telepathic link twixt Guy and Weird Dog, I’m guessing the two will skirt round me, the silence of their Oh look, there’s a twat embarrassment allied to the lack of instructions to “walk left”, “walk right” or “leap”. If, however, commands are issued, I can rule out the telepathy angle and save a bit of typing when I record our encounters in my journal.
Is this a foolproof strategy or a recipe for disaster?