Friends and Enemies

Ventured a little off our normal route for our walk this morning.  I think 'Her Indoors' is a bit embarrassed by my continuing spat with that Golden Retriever from up the road.  She's not concerned about the dog, it's the owner.  He's not in the first flush of youth, unlike his dog, and he gets dragged along a bit whilst we dogs go through the ritual verbal exchange of hostilities.  Personally, I find it invigorating, but 'Her Indoors' mutters grimly under her breath and refers to me by one of my alternative names.  We couldn't go past the farm either, after that little spot of unpleasantness when I was ambushed by Midge the farm dog last week.  It's just as well there's a good choice of side roads.  As it was we bumped into Henry from next door.  I can't quite pinpoint exactly why, but I like the cut of his jib.  He's a Bloodhound cross, a rescue dog that's seen a bit of life, and he's calm and quiet.  It was all tail wagging and polite sniffing.  I know who I like and who I don't although 'Her Indoors' hasn't quite got to grips with the politics of dog relationships.