Eric, the male Scottish Terrier, thinks the sun shines out of our son.

No one else matters. I am just the housemaid. I am permitted to feed him and say nice things an open and shut doors for him, but if my son appears… I cease to exist. They explore the district together walking kilometres, and know most of the other walkers.

He’s a charming fellow, but like most males – human or canine – he can be selectively deaf.

I was pruning roses so I let him come with me to the front yard.

World’s biggest mistake…. he didn’t stay… like William Wallace, he yelled freedom… closed his ears and, at a brisk trot, over the lawn nature strip, across the street with me quailing lest a car came… he would NOT listen… along the big nature strip for 200 yards, head up tail up… with me in crocs running after him…

I tried the old trick of sitting down… always works… he turned and came back and I thought ahh!

But no…   he ducked past me and back the other way, round the corner, trotting along, I made a dive and missed. I figured, hopefully he might go into the driveway opposite… still fearing cars, deaths, mutilation… mayhem, blame, and me having to face our son or leave home but, luckily, I suppose, the people opposite have two JRs and he must have smelled them. He paused, head down, and I rugby tackled him. I could have strangled him except I was totally buggered.

I staggered inside… said to husband, never outside the front door again unless collar and lead… told our son that Eric was heading home to his breeder on the next plane, and had two cups of coffee to recover…

I forgave him, and later, when son had a late night and needed the rest, I foolishly said I would take Eric for his walk.

Eric is lovely to watch as he charges along… Sort of a Scotland the Brave swagger, little legs going like pistons, pausing every hundred yards to pee on a post, or to powerfully kick grass metres behind him into the air… sniff fences… we strolled along.

He was a bit disappointed that I took a short cut, a much shorter walk than he does with our son., but things were going well, until we turned for home, about 150m from the gate… when we spied a woman with a big yellow dog in a green rug coming from the other direction.

I don’t know what it roared at him but it was obviously an insult, and Eric, who is normally a total gentleman, was in for the fight yelling (William Wallace would have been so proud)   “Bas Agus Buaidh” at the top of his lungs as he hit the end of the lead.

The other woman was annoyed, grabbed her dog round the neck –   and yelled at me but her dog started it, so suck it up sister…

I yelled to her that I was 50 yards from his front door and to wait while we went in.

Eric was still hanging back and daring the dog to set foot in HIS yard or to put one tooth in his Nana’s leg… then stood on the front steps with his tail over his back growling.

So much for a peaceful walk. He’s so good with people, and loves little kids. I’d love to know what the other dog said. Whatever it was it must have been rude… Eric was most offended.

I will leave the dog walking to my son in future, it’s all too stressful, I will just stay the housemaid.