This week it was decided – only by Andrew – that I would be holding the lead. Which was a bad idea all round.
I, feeling self-conscious, fumbled and tripped my way around the room to the horsey woman’s commands, completely unable to catch or keep Jasper’s attention away from pretty much anything, really; the floor, the dog in front, the dog behind, his own feet, nothing in particular…
And so instead he pulled me around the room, wilfully refusing to sit or stay at any point, including the moment each pair was singled out to perform it, meaning we were one of two people who received a condescending shake of the horsey woman’s head and an “Ok, we’ll come back to you next week”. He was, in short, an utter letdown and I lasted only half an hour before I was furiously gesturing toward Andrew on the sidelines to get tagged in.
He did so and handled it with more grace than I think I could ever manage. Jasper was still a little shit, but Andrew kept his cool and ploughed on. Good on him. I, on the other hand, don’t plan to speak to the dog for at least three days.