An Encounter On Southsea Beach

By Elaine Hamilton, Portsmouth Mediation Service. 

One windy evening on Southsea beach during the summer of 2025, I was trying to wrestle myself dressed after a swim with my towel and clothing flapping like a ship’s flag in a storm, when a medium-sized mongrel appeared at my feet and began barking wildly at me. Unhelpful, to say the least. I’m far more used to the dogs I happen to encounter behaving adorably. The dog’s owner was trudging along the beach towards us a short distance away, calling:
“Austin!”
The dog was too intent on reacting towards me as if I were intruding on his master’s very own path: “WOOF!! WOOOF!! WOOF!!” to pay any attention to his master’s voice. It was as if the dog thought, bewilderingly, that nobody but the two of them should be allowed on that broad stony shoreline. I asked the man, as he drew close, why the barking? He grabbed the dog, tethered him, and led him away in silence. Leaving me with a sharp-feeling emotional charge inside me I was keen to discharge positively if I could.
I next saw them about a week later, quietly walking past, the dog on a lead.
“Hi, Austin seems happier today, no barking!” I cried.
“How d’you know he’s called Austin?!” said the man, halting.
“I heard you calling his name, and remembered it cos I used to have a dog called Austin!” I informed him obligingly.
“I’ve never heard of anyone else having a dog called Austin,” said the man as if that mild coincidence meant he probably shouldn’t believe his ears, but he stepped closer, scratching the side of his head with the hand not holding the leash.
“Smaller, different breed, and we called ours ‘Austin Paws’, a pun on ‘Austin Powers’, who had his ‘mojo’, whilst ‘Austin Paws’ had his ‘bono’, ah, you smile, you know the film… Why did your Austin bark at me?”
Which questioning is how I found out: that the dog was a juvenile mongrel rescued from the streets of Romania; that he was nervous, not aggressive; that the reason his rescuer had never worried about letting him off the lead was because he’d never bitten anyone, and; that it had most likely been my clothes and towel whipping in the wind he’d been barking at – not me – because, who knew what he’d gone through as a stray.
I pointed out that when he’d barked, I hadn’t possibly been able to guess any of that; that I hadn’t known the dog had probably been acting neurotically because of a troubled past, harmlessly, and I hadn’t known Austin hadn’t been about to sink his teeth into my flesh.
Austin’s owner had been able to see my perspective. When I’ve seen the man and his dog since, we’ve greeted cheerfully, and I’ve given his Austin, who’s rather silky, and quite a softy, yet another nice pat. And so far, each time, he’s been kept on his lead, safe from getting himself, or any other members of the public, spooked.
Austin Paws pictured.