The gang expands

As hinted in previous blogs, I have been giving much thought to enlarging my gang of faithful but rather ragtail followers. Injecting some new blood into the weary warriors seemed like a good idea when I looked them over at our last meeting.

They have never been really introduced, so here is a quick resume of my forlorn-looking followers.

First among equals is Gus, the Alsatian. Although of German descent, the British breeds among us hold no grudges for what happened all those years ago and consider him an all-round good chap. Bright, alert and always willing to help, he is regarded as my number two and takes over when I am unable to make meetings.

To be absolutely honest, Gus is probably the purest among us. The others, often without the knowledge of their owners, are not the aristocrats they believe they are. The Vicar’s two beagles, for instance, have a touch of French blood and police inspector Frank Ash is not prepared to answer question about his Cairn Terrier Spot’s antecedents. But I do not judge them harshly and they have been good supporters over the years.

Now is time for a change.  Mrs Cuthwaite’s Skye Terrier, Jock, is an admirable fellow and deserves a place among us, while I thought it wise to bring in Percy the Chorkie – a mix of  Yorkshire Terrier and Chihuahua - to give the hybrids a chance.. After all, we are not Crufts, or members of the Kennel Club.

I am sure everyone will get on and to encourage acceptance of the newcomers I have instigated some training sessions. For instance, they will have to learn our barking and tail-wagging codes. I am reluctant to admit that not all current members have mastered these to the standard I had expected, but I have high hope of the latest recruits.

Gus is good teacher and will be responsible for making sure there is steady progress on all fronts. I expect them to pick up the less-complicated  barking procedures quickly, so that in a couple of months or so we will all be able to be in touch in code – a vital part of keeping our plans away from prying human eyes and ears – and, dare I say it, possible spies among us. Tail wagging is taking much longer than I anticipated. Only the rudiments have been mastered.

These ways of communicating become ever more imperative as new rules and regulations are forced upon us by the authorities. Only the other day there was talk of dog restrictions in parks. No longer will we be able to run freely in public places, but must be kept on leads. Already many breeds are forced to wear a muzzle guard when out for walks.

Then there is the new rule about weight, or more correctly, overweight. A dog’s obesity is regarded as being entirely the responsibility of owners who face a crippling fine if they are caught. They say it is for our health. More likely it is to raise revenue for the local authorities which are supposed to police this silly law.

I, for one, will be most annoyed if my favourite chocolate bites and the odd cream cake fail to appear on the menu in future.

The gang has spent many hours discussing these petty and spiteful rules and have come to the conclusion that resistance to them now would be futile. Like the early trades unions we are just too low in numbers to effect any changes. But like them, our time will come and we will get organised. I see myself as leader of a massive protest movement of dogs. Quite a picture.