Neighbourhood Watch

“IS THAT THE DOG MAN?”

It was a fairly common question, and I was used to it, but not at this volume level.

“MY NAME IS MARCUS CLEMO, AND  I NEED YOU TO COME AND LOOK AT ME DOG.”

I replied that I would be happy to help if a mutually convenient appointment could be made.

“WHAT? YOU WILL ‘AVE TO SPEAK UP!!”

Normally, I would attempt to elicit as much information as possible on the phone, but in this instance, I decided that it would probably be better just to wait until we met as, by now, my ears were starting to hurt.

Mr Clemo lived at Wadebridge, which made for a pleasant drive up to the north of the county. For those folks who collect trivia, the town, which straddles the river Camel, was originally called Wade. However, a bridge was built across the river, and that is why the town of Wade became Wadebridge. See, you not only get dog stories on this site but history and geography lessons as well!!

As I paused to press the doorbell, I could hear his raised voice shouting about hooligans who needed to be reported to the police. Mr Clemo answered the door and greeted me with ‘ELLO MR ‘ODSON, I’M MARCUS CLEMO. COME IN.” The decibel level was far worse than on the phone, so it became obvious that Mr Clemo had a hearing issue, and from the incredibly thick lenses in his spectacles, it was fair to assume that Mr Clemo’s eyesight was nowhere near the 20-20 range. As if these afflictions were not enough, the poor man appeared to be painfully thin.

Boudica

Mr Clemo’s dog was a female Rottweiler named Boudica, named after the warrior queen who fought the Romans. Mr Clemo was a student of European history and could wax lyrical about his favourite subject, Kings and Queens plus heroines. During my visit, he regaled me with tales of daring—do, in particular, his favourite Boudica.

In fact, it was quite a while before we got anywhere near discussing the issue of Boudica the dog. Mr Clemo was so entranced with his favourite subject that the conversation always got sidetracked.

Meeting any guarding breed in one’s own home is always a risk as one is never sure of their reaction, but Boudica showed no signs of aggression. On the contrary, her immediate reaction was to instantly roll over on her back and wait for her tummy to be rubbed.

“THAT’S WHY YOU ARE HERE MR ‘ODSON. IT’S GOT TO STOP. I CAN’T ‘AVE BOUDICA ROLLING ON ‘ER BACK LIKE THAT.”

I was puzzled in the extreme. The Rottweiler, despite being a fairly mild-mannered canine and generally a reliable family pet, unfortunately, had something of a fierce reputation, which was mostly totally unjustified. Its use by some of society’s criminal elements as a guard dog for premises used for nefarious activities led to this image.

A question of image

I had to ask.

“Mr Clemo what on earth is wrong, your dog is a credit to you. She has a delightful disposition and is one of the best-behaved, friendly Rottweilers I have ever met.”

“THAT’S ALL VERY WELL, BUT I NEED ‘ER TO LOOK FIERCE EVEN IF SHE ISN’T.”

“SHE IS NO GOOD FOR MY IMAGE.”

Now, I am aware that there are people who consider image to be very important, in particular when it comes to their appearance. But as I looked at Mr Clemo, I saw a man who was partially deaf and very short-sighted. He gave the appearance of a man who would be blown over if exposed to a stiff breeze, and I was, in fact, decidedly alarmed that he could control a dog the size of a Rottweiler in an emergency.

He looked decidedly frail. Surely, vanity was not an issue.

“Mr Clemo, please forgive me, but I’m unsure what you want me to do. Why am I here?”

“WELL, IT’S QUITE SIMPLE. I AM INCREASINGLY ALARMED AT THE PEOPLE’S BEHAVIOUR, PARTICULARLY THE YOUNG, NO RESPECT, ‘OOLIGANS MR ‘ODSON. IT’S WHY  I AM STARTING MY OWN NEIGHBOURHOOD WATCH SCHEME, AND NOBODY IS GOING TO TAKE ME SERIOUSLY WITH A DOG WOT ROLLS ON ITS BACK TO HAVE ITS BELLY STROKED.”

I didn’t know what to say. My overwhelming desire to launch into hysterical laughter was masked by a forced coughing fit.

I was desperate not to offend the elderly gentleman, but I could only see trouble ahead. An image of Paul Kersey, the vigilante antihero in the Death Wish films, flashed through my mind, but Marcus Clemo was definitely no Charles Bronson.

This isn’t a dog problem…

I could see that this would not be a normal dog behaviour visit. There was no dog problem to be solved, only a human one!

“Mr Clemo, this is not my area of expertise, but do you have the cooperation and blessing of the local police and home office?”

“DO I NEED IT?” Asked Mr Clemo.

“Well, as far as I know, you can’t just call yourself a neighbourhood watch and start patrolling the streets with Boudica. Even if you can, what are you going to do if you see a crime being committed or hooligan behaviour?”

“Patrolling streets is a young man’s job, but I suspect the position of neighbourhood watch coordinator might be more suitable.”

I explained what little I knew about how this worked and suggested that visiting the local police station would be a good start.

“I’LL DO IT TOMORROW, MR ‘ODSON.” Exclaimed Mr Clemo excitedly. The volume was reaching the decibel level that could be considered dangerous, at least to my ears, and having established that my client would not be the inspiration for another Death Wish movie, I gladly escaped and could rest my auditory system. My only concern was that as I had suggested a visit to the police station, tomorrow some poor desk sergeant would have to deal with the very deaf Mr Clemo and have his ears assailed.

All’s well…

I would never see Mr Clemo again, but fortunately, because of my contacts within the constabulary, I could follow his progress. His visit to the police station was highly illuminating for him. When asked by the long-suffering policeman why he didn’t have a hearing aid, Mr Clemo replied that the “damned thing kept buzzing in my ear.”

Fortunately, the policeman had an elderly relative who had suffered from the same problem and could send Mr Clemo to a specialist who could adjust the hearing aid to work properly.

Mr Clemo eventually became a very successful neighbourhood watch coordinator, necessitating regular team members’ visits.

As I understand it, Boudica the Rottweiler continued to spend much of the rest of her life upside down, having her tummy stroked by all who were fortunate to meet her.