Dear Editor,

The letter from Rex Butch captioned "It's a dog's life in Georgetown" (23.ll.200l) [ please note: link provided by LOSP web site ] made interesting but sad reading.

It must be very difficult to be abandoned and have to live by one's wits on the street. It is quite true dogs get verbal and physical abuse, sometimes deserved and sometimes unsolicited. (I understand that two-legged street dwellers also get abuse.)

When small boys (note the gender) rattle my gate, as a guard dog, I rush barking of course to alert the couple that I own. When I am then pelted with stones and other missiles, I do not deserve it.

On the other paw, as they say, the dogs that rush at me and my couple when I am taking them for a walk or ride (they cycle, I run) deserve some shouts but never lashes.

When out walking with my couple and I am accosted by a gang of six or more of my four footed mates, I do try to be friendly, sniff noses and the other end, the way dogs should introduce themselves.

But mostly they are too rude, make a lot of noise and run away when I approach. That really lets the side down. I am then exceedingly restrained in my behaviour.

To keep my couple happy, I usually do what they say-except when it is bath time (a rare occurrence, we dogs keep ourselves clean) and then I find the most inaccessible place to hide.

My couple have some sensible visitors who stand inside the gate, talk gently, and let me snuff and smell them, just to make sure that they are safe to go in the house.

I sit down and wait patiently when my couple chat to friends in the street (oh, how they talk). When people come to the gate I always join in with a noisy contribution but that is not always polite so my couple suggest I wait by the house.

If a philanthropist built a Down Town Dog Home (like Battersea in London) where the abandoned dogs can go till they can choose a human to adopt them, perhaps another will build a similar place for the abandoned humans.

All are deprived physically and most importantly, emotionally too, and need bowls and bowls of TLC (The lady I own taught me that, it means Tender Loving Care. She told me that sometimes doctors write it on the medication charts of sick patients.)

Rex, not all two-leggers are cruel. Keep your tail up.