Moored up below Pigeon Lock on the Oxford Canal, and leaving the Captain sitting quietly on the sheltered gas locker up the back, I was quietly drinking a coffee up the front when the boat started lurching around and there was yelling and shouting and squawking…
Rushed up the back to find a strange woman and a black Labrador on the deck. She was holding aloft a struggling large-ish scruffy terrier of some kind, which seemed to have Biggles securely in its jaws. She proceeded to throw both of them in the canal, then do her best – along with some other women – to get in my way while trying to rescue her dog: the pilings ensured no-one was climbing out under their own steam.
It’s not often I’m speechless…
Biggles frantically cat-paddled to the pilings then along them down behind a boat moored behind us, which could easily have crushed him had it moved, and I eventually managed to fish him out with some difficulty: the expression “drowned rat” springs to mind.
When I “politely” asked the women why her dog wasn’t on a lead if it was prone to charging onto occupied boats and attacking innocent cats that go out of their way not to provoke other animals, she said  it wasn’t her dog, she was walking it for someone else,  there are very few cats on the canal (when we had only remarked the other day how many we’d seen on boats) and  she hadn’t got a lead anyway.
It’s not often I’m speechless twice in as many minutes.
Bet neither of them were carrying dog-poop bags either…
Hosed down in the shower and dried off a bit, there doesn’t seem to be any serious damage but a close watch is called for, methinks. Can cats get Weil’s Disease?
So far, he’s just stayed asleep all day, even ignoring the heavy thunderstorms at lunchtime.
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