WITH APOLOGIES TO THE WHO, ‘MEET THE NEW BOSS, (NOT QUITE THE) SAME AS THE OLD BOSS’!

In some respects, Ruby’s arrival has made little difference to our household. We follow similar routines and, of course, on a daily basis, derive tremendous fun and pleasure from being around her. Just over two years old, she’s arrived at that point in a young dog’s progress where everything comes together; fit and strong, playful and sociable, independent and obedient. She has absorbed all her experiences to date and learned from them; she ‘gets it!’

And we’ve adapted too! We didn’t want a ‘Groundhog Day’ experience with Ruby; actually, there was never a chance we would get one! When a new dog comes to live with you, and you think about its predecessor, then picture a set of railway lines; they look identical, very close together, but they’ll never meet!

It’s been so rewarding for us to create a framework within which Ruby has developed into a beautiful and interesting companion. At the same time, she has placed a unique stamp on our lives, allowing us to enjoy seemingly familiar situations as though for the first time.

Despite the apparent clue in the title, ‘Retrievers’, and it’s certainly not for the want of trying and encouragement on our part, our dogs have been much disinclined to chase and fetch balls. We occasionally meet with other owners whose dogs regard balls as the Holy Grail. At those moments, Ruby copies Ellie exactly in adopting a disinterested ‘whatever’ pose while these ball hunters have great fun, demonstrating an insatiable appetite for the task. However, Ruby has introduced a variation to the ‘no balls’ theme.

One of our regular early morning walks is on a nearby pitch and putt course. We usually complete our round without encountering anyone other than, occasionally, another dog walker. Ruby loves being there because there are squirrels to chase, bunkers to burrow in, and golf balls to find. And it’s made me realise that it isn’t balls as an entity that bores her; it’s the lack of challenge in me producing one from my pocket and throwing it, requiring her only to chase after it in a straight line. Lose a golf ball in long grass or under bushes, and she’s your dog! We will be walking along one of the fairways, and suddenly, she’ll almost leap up and pounce into the rough, quickly emerging with someone’s misplaced shot. An added attraction for her seems to be the size, fitting perfectly in her mouth, and the hard surface, very ‘gnawable’. And despite what I said earlier about reluctance to chase, she is fascinated by the properties of a moving golf ball. When I launch one ahead of her with a long, low trajectory, creating a direction of travel with multiple bounces, she hunts it down with the determination of a Mountie.

One aspect of Ruby we manage carefully is her relationship with cats. We had been used to Ellie’s rather dismissive relationship with the local feline population. She wandered past them as if they didn’t exist, making only fleeting eye contact if she spotted one. On the other hand, Ruby has somehow tapped into the immutable law of the universe that dogs dislike cats and are contractually obliged to chase them! I picture a scene where Julie, the breeder, inadvertently left the litter in the same room as a TV showing a Tom and Jerry cartoon; the episode where Spike the dog makes Tom’s life an absolute misery. Ruby soaks up every second, and this is the result. If she sees a cat and she’s on the lead, she almost hyperventilates. If she’s off the lead, she gives chase barking loudly and yet, although I don’t want to test it, I find it hard to believe that she would actually do it any harm. Like the golf ball, I think it’s more about the chase.

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