tim's experiment

It is a common experience among dog owners: you are walking your pet, you come across a complete stranger and he greets your pooch by name. This is particularly likely to happen of somebody else sometimes walks your dog, but it still happens if you do your own walks.

There is no mystery here. You talk to, or occasionally shout at, your dog by name. She does not reply with your name. Indeed I know quite a lot of the other dogs we often meet in the park by name. Their owners remain anonymous, though familiar.

Still, there are limits. The other day I decided to take the minibus down from our hilltop to Fotan. I am usually motorised but Fotan has no convenient parking arrangements. I get off the bus in the wake of another passenger and she turns and asks “Are you Lemon?” Of course that is not what she meant. What she meant was that I was the person who walks Lemon. Note, though, that Lemon (who is my dog) was not present.

Anyway I had a pleasant chat with the lady who did not really think I was Lemon, and did some shopping.

An hour or so later I was waiting at the minibus stop for the trip home and a gentleman joined the queue behind me. “How is Lemon?” he asked. And we had another pleasant chat about our respective dogs.

So it seems my main claim to fame, at least round our part of the New Territories, is that I am Lemon’s walker. This is mildly disturbing.

In the days when I was on RTHK quite often I did have occasional encounters with people who might broadly be described as fans. I was, and indeed am still, a bit nervous when people come up to me and ask “Are you Tim Hamlett?” but they have always been polite and usually been flattering.

One of the drawbacks of appearing on television is that some people have difficulty getting their heads round the fact that they can see you but you can not look into the camera and see them. So they assume a degree of familiarity which grates a bit with my old-fashioned English ideas about how you interact with strangers.

Curiously, Lemon seems to have picked up her social habits from me. She does not interact with strangers. A quietly extended hand may be sniffed. If you try to pet her she shies away. If you ignore her completely she may take the initiative and sniff your feet. And that is it.

In fact the only time I have known her allow a stranger to touch her head at all was when we first met and she put her head in my hands. That is how I finished up with a large dog when I was looking for a small one. Lemon chose me.

And she has in many ways been the one in charge of the relationship ever since. Which is OK, I suppose. Just don’t tell her.