The Print

Standing outside the train station, I was chatting with a friend who had just dropped her husband off, when an immaculate white Range Rover sweeps in and parks next to us. Out steps a well-groomed woman. Our conversation continues, we are getting well into it.

Moss is very good at entertaining herself when I’m chatting, let’s just say she gets plenty of practice. She’s on a slack lead. The woman is clearly going to catch a train, probably to London, she’s looking intense.

Moss is a small dog, she’s extremely friendly, she loves people. Unfortunately … you know what’s going to come next, Moss jumps up. She plants a single paw print on the ironed jeans of the well-dressed woman. I immediately apologise. My policy on these occasions, is to apologise once with eye-contact, knowing it’s of little help to add anything else, humour could make the situation worse.

The well-groomed woman opens her large handbag which is elegantly slung over her shoulder, she extracts a pristine packet of tissues, from which she takes one. She then wipes the paw print extravagantly in front of me. I confess, I find the theatricality of the scene slightly amusing.

I totally get that jumping up is not good. My policy is no jumping up at all, because dogs don’t realise when they have muddy feet, nor do they understand when people are dressed up. I’ve noticed that dogs, in particularly puppies, are magnetically attracted to anything white, especially long white coats or, worst of all, white trousers.

When the well-dressed woman has finished wiping her knee, she straightens her back, and stalks off to catch her train, with no eye contact. Leaving me and my friend giggling like naughty school girls.

I do hope that the said print does not damage her day.

Sorry.

AJK