People who think all dogs are the same really have no idea.

Like humans, each is totally different, each has their own personality.

Here, Eric is a gentleman, not overly brave, devoted solely to my son, who he thinks the sun shines from, he loves to walk, and is a gentleman, easy to deal with.

Pink is sunshine… loving, sweet tempered, known as the Princess as she prefers to be handed her snack while sitting on the carpet.

Trudy, not long here, is yet to find her place, a worrier  – “am I doing the right thing? Please cuddle me…please don’t leave me.”

Then there’s Mary Queen of Scots*…Mary is her own person. Always has been, right from puppyhood, a funny little lady, I know she loves me best as where I am, you will find her.

But that’s all… she’s not a tail wagger or given to dancing, or smiles, not in the least affectionate, goes her own way and is inclined to be the fat kid of the group even though she’s fed less…

To walk the other three is easy. Snap the harness on, open the front gate and away…. Eric strolls, man about town, Pink dances, scattering flowers and love as she trots along.   Trudy’s walks are short to the corner and back until she gains confidence.

Mary – well a few casual tail wags and a lowered head shows that yes please, I’d like to walk… but going out with Mary is very different. Like any Queen, things have to be done her way.

With the others, a brisk pace is expected; with Pink – the power walker – often checking to see if I can keep up…

But Mary… a walk with her is not a walk… it’s a Sniffari   – every single scent that touches that big, black nose, has to be investigated, examined. Sometimes there is a need to sit down and read the pee mail left on trees,  to admire flowers, to think about which dog might have been there, which kid dropped the Macca’s wrapper, or if the woman up the road three houses away had sausages in her shopping bag as she passed.

This takes time, and there’s no use in hurrying her.

“Come on Mary Come on Mary Come on Mary… for goodness sakes” – suggesting a move on is hopeless   – that rotund bottom stays planted until she’s thought it out..thinking, examining, analysing.

Those of you who have read To Kill A mockingbird know how Jem and Scout would hug the lamp post hoping Boo Radley would come out?

Well, Mary does that outside the house where the Border Collie lives.

She has to stop, longing and hoping he will appear from behind his pen gate so she can roar at him and kick grass defiantly…

She’s disappointed when he doesn’t show up, but if he does, I hate to think what dreadful things she has to say, the tone of voice says it’s pretty rude and certainly not ladylike.

He’s just as bad shouting back, and seeing as they are both of Scottish ancestry, you would think they would be amiable, but instead, Clan insults fly.

She greets the little kids from the child care centre with a smile and a casual wag… but is happy to turn for home at that point.

What takes the other dogs 15 minutes to do, with Mary, takes 45 minutes, with much come on -ing… but Queens cannot be hurried, and everything must be reconsidered and re-sniffed on the way home, I live with that… it’s ok.

The only annoying thing is that last week, a man seeing our very slow progress and not knowing us, thought that it was me that was needing to walk so slowly and offered me sympathy for any age-related ailments… REALLY?  I was appalled! I poked her in the bum with my foot to hurry her up… she wasn’t pleased… but neither was I.

Next time my son can take her, I will take Pink…

*Queen Mary is a wheaten Scottish Terrier.