One of the reasons I enjoy this job so much is that you never know what the day will throw at you. As I enter the building each morning, making my way through the labyrinth of dark corridors in Swale House that lead to the home of the environmental response team, room 150 (strangely, although I have looked many times, I can't find a room 101), I ponder on whether the day will turn out as planned.
The other day for example, I received a call that a lady had found a Labrador straying in a field on the outskirts of Sittingbourne. Off I go in my little dog van in search of the absconding pooch. After looking for a while, I find no trace of the lady or the dog, so I pull over and give her a call, hands free of course. "I'm in the top corner of the field next to your van" she tells me. "the dogs very strong, so I'll wait here for you". Well I looked all over but couldn't see her, I mean, I know my eye's aren't what they used to be, but it's only my close vision that's not so good. Actually, if I forget my glasses, the only way I can read print now is to squint my eye's look through my bushy eyebrows. The light seems to refract through the hairs and for whatever reason allows me, if I move my head from side to side, to read things quite clearly.
Anyway, my long vision is great, after all, on a clear night I can see the moon, how much further do I need to see! Finally I spot a white speck on the horizon which turns out to be the lady waving one arm in the air trying to attract my attention. I park my van & grabbing my trusty lead, begin to trudge up the grassy side path of this freshly ploughed field.
Note to self, there is no point in being issued with Swale Borough Council Wellies if you leave them under your desk.
After a brisk trudge, I arrived at the kind lady, and thanking her for her help in catching the dog and ringing us, bend down to make friends with the exceptionally large yellow Labrador. What a beautiful animal, I really haven't seen many this big, but he was very friendly and happily allowed me to put the lead on his collar.
Holding the lead in my right hand, and still facing up hill, I stood up to again thank the lady for her help. "Bonzo" (real name omitted to protect the innocent) who was obviously bored by now, took off down the field at full lick. This caused the old dog warden to spin through 180 degrees and follow. The first 10 feet or so I dug my heels in attempting to slow him down. This had no effect at all but to give the impression that I was water skiing across the grass.
Realising that I should deploy plan B, I started to run, but now we were both heading for the freshly ploughed part of the field. It's amazing how much thinking time you can cram into a few seconds, and it became apparent that I would soon be knee deep in mud at best, or dragged across the field face down at worst, so I did the only I could think of at the time and let go.
Momentum however continued, and I ended up running, with arms flaying about like a windmill, in the ploughed field, although fortunately managing to stay upright. "Bonzo", realising he had won, stopped and walked back to the path and stood there waiting for me. The kind lady who had been observing this, offered to walk the dog to the van for me, obviously uncertain of my dog handling skills. "It's fine, thank you very much" I replied, he just caught me off balance. Again thanking her, I took "Bonzo's" lead in my left hand, and with a very firm grip of my right hand on the lead about a foot from his collar we started the down hill walk to the van. I have to say that as soon as he realised I was in charge, he walked to heal very well.
Arriving at the van, I opened the back doors and made my usual 'hupp' sound, indicating I wanted him to jump into the cage. This was really when our eye's met for the first time. As I was saying "Hupp Hupp, come on, good boy, there's a good boy, up you get, come on hupp hupp" etc, he sat there with an "I'll tell you what, you get in the cage and I'll drive" look in his eye's.
Undeterred, I used my many talents, well a handful of dog biscuits actually, and "Bonzo" obligingly jumped into the van where he was scanned for a microchip. Bingo, "Bonzo" was micro-chipped and swiftly returned to his grateful owner. The only real point to this blog entry is to demonstrate what a fun job this can be, and to show that getting your dog micro-chipped is really worth it!
The other day for example, I received a call that a lady had found a Labrador straying in a field on the outskirts of Sittingbourne. Off I go in my little dog van in search of the absconding pooch. After looking for a while, I find no trace of the lady or the dog, so I pull over and give her a call, hands free of course. "I'm in the top corner of the field next to your van" she tells me. "the dogs very strong, so I'll wait here for you". Well I looked all over but couldn't see her, I mean, I know my eye's aren't what they used to be, but it's only my close vision that's not so good. Actually, if I forget my glasses, the only way I can read print now is to squint my eye's look through my bushy eyebrows. The light seems to refract through the hairs and for whatever reason allows me, if I move my head from side to side, to read things quite clearly.
Anyway, my long vision is great, after all, on a clear night I can see the moon, how much further do I need to see! Finally I spot a white speck on the horizon which turns out to be the lady waving one arm in the air trying to attract my attention. I park my van & grabbing my trusty lead, begin to trudge up the grassy side path of this freshly ploughed field.
Note to self, there is no point in being issued with Swale Borough Council Wellies if you leave them under your desk.
After a brisk trudge, I arrived at the kind lady, and thanking her for her help in catching the dog and ringing us, bend down to make friends with the exceptionally large yellow Labrador. What a beautiful animal, I really haven't seen many this big, but he was very friendly and happily allowed me to put the lead on his collar.
Holding the lead in my right hand, and still facing up hill, I stood up to again thank the lady for her help. "Bonzo" (real name omitted to protect the innocent) who was obviously bored by now, took off down the field at full lick. This caused the old dog warden to spin through 180 degrees and follow. The first 10 feet or so I dug my heels in attempting to slow him down. This had no effect at all but to give the impression that I was water skiing across the grass.
Realising that I should deploy plan B, I started to run, but now we were both heading for the freshly ploughed part of the field. It's amazing how much thinking time you can cram into a few seconds, and it became apparent that I would soon be knee deep in mud at best, or dragged across the field face down at worst, so I did the only I could think of at the time and let go.
Momentum however continued, and I ended up running, with arms flaying about like a windmill, in the ploughed field, although fortunately managing to stay upright. "Bonzo", realising he had won, stopped and walked back to the path and stood there waiting for me. The kind lady who had been observing this, offered to walk the dog to the van for me, obviously uncertain of my dog handling skills. "It's fine, thank you very much" I replied, he just caught me off balance. Again thanking her, I took "Bonzo's" lead in my left hand, and with a very firm grip of my right hand on the lead about a foot from his collar we started the down hill walk to the van. I have to say that as soon as he realised I was in charge, he walked to heal very well.
Arriving at the van, I opened the back doors and made my usual 'hupp' sound, indicating I wanted him to jump into the cage. This was really when our eye's met for the first time. As I was saying "Hupp Hupp, come on, good boy, there's a good boy, up you get, come on hupp hupp" etc, he sat there with an "I'll tell you what, you get in the cage and I'll drive" look in his eye's.
Undeterred, I used my many talents, well a handful of dog biscuits actually, and "Bonzo" obligingly jumped into the van where he was scanned for a microchip. Bingo, "Bonzo" was micro-chipped and swiftly returned to his grateful owner. The only real point to this blog entry is to demonstrate what a fun job this can be, and to show that getting your dog micro-chipped is really worth it!
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