An evening stroll

We both saw her cleaning herself by the road.

It was just another evening stroll for us. Fang had taken his piss and pooed; he is usually calmer and tugs lesser after doing both. The 5.30pm sun shone lazily and gave us dreamy side-by-side silhouettes. At a corner in the field opposite the house, the grass was green in an intoxicating manner, while boys were having a good time with their football.

I stopped when I spotted her. She was white, with shady grey scattered on her body. Using her paw and little tongue simultaneously she was giving herself a thorough licking and brushing, just like how a human female would suit up before a date. Perhaps too indulged in her work she failed to realise us, the more dangerous being her natural enemy.

Fang lunged. I held his leash back to kill what would have been a strong pounce on his unsuspecting nemesis. He began to bark and I shushed.

He looked at me, eyes shining brightly and with a most noticeable and impatient gait. There was hunting to do. Take the enemy by surprise and kill it. Why is Master holding me back? Is he being uncool?

I took one light step - careful to avoid pebbles - right towards the cleaning cat. Upon my second step Fang decided that I was worth imitating and ceased his excited panting by shutting tight his huge muzzle. His tail went straight up into the air, a sign of bottled up excitement. He moved in synchronisation with his Master, stopping and moving whenever I did.


Our shadows slowly encroached onto Pussy's body. Still she did not have the faintest idea of the silent stealthy duo right behind.

Two steps away from her we sprang the surprise. I took two big steps and Fang heeded. One mighty push of his front paw and Pussy was on her back. She hissed and threw a sharp slash, but his second paw was already upon her. I stood observing the two natural antithesis in action.

Fang was big and powerful, but at the expense of speed and was not lithe, which was Pussy's advantage. Realising there is yet another human watching in the background she leaped a powerful distance and ran for dear life, cursing all the way. Fang barked and mustered to give chase, but the hunting is over and I held on as he tugged and barked away.

He bristled with displeasure as we began the walk home, often throwing backward glances and wanting to react accordingly with his instincts.

It was all over for me. I was a happy owner. Fang is not totally a dumb and hopeless case after all. He was such a quick learner for those few seconds.

Or maybe, as dogs go, he was being his most loyal self, even with his natural instincts going off like sirens.

Not bad for an evening stroll innit?