Yesterday, in the ravine we came across a young woman whom we see infrequently, walking her little white Shih Tzu dog, an inoffensive little fellow, in the ravine. I greeted her, then continued on, but my husband who is often far more sensitive to people, and in any event, more geared than I am personality-wise to listening and empathizing, stopped to speak with her, sensing she was upset about something. She had a story to tell. And it wasn't a very pleasant one.

Back in early March she had been walking along the trails in the ravine, when suddenly she came abreast of five large dogs, unleashed and obviously rushing ahead of whoever was walking them. They surrounded her little dog, intimidating it, so instinctively she pushed them back and reached over to pick her little fellow up. Most of the dogs retreated, but a large Doberman did not. That dog kept trying to get at the small dog cradled in her arms.

Try as she might, she was unable to completely protect her little dog and it sustained some serious bites while she tried to fend off the large dog, still holding hers. The person walking the dogs had by then caught up with them, and rushed over to pry the Doberman's jaws apart, to release the little dog in the grasp of its owner. He then called off the Doberman, apologized for any 'inconvenience', and walked off with the dogs in his care, while she and her small dog were left in obvious distress.

She rushed the little dog to the veterinarian hospital she uses, and the vet there, examining the injured dog, said he'd never before seen such severe bites sustained by a dog. The dog underwent urgent surgery to repair its wounds and eventually recovered. The man, she wanted us to know, was someone we were familiar with. And indeed he was.

We had met him for the first time three winters back when he had come by a rescue dog, a female black Lab that was not yet a year old. He seemed like a very nice person. Rough-hewn, tall and angular, with a thick Cockney accent, he told us how much he related to dogs, he thought he had a special talent for understanding and communicating with them. Our two little dogs certainly agreed with him on that score.

He had worked all his life as a roofer, a tough job, and he was sick of it, prepared to try something new. And that something new was to veer toward dog training and dog walking, hoping he could make a living with it. He found plenty of people who hadn't the time or the inclination to walk their dogs and were eager to take advantage of the service he offered. We would see him occasionally in the ravine on our walks, walking a number of dogs, some of which were regulars, others newly joining his walking pack. He told us he goes out several times a day with various dogs. He appeared to have them well under control and was anxious to give them the freedom to move about off leash, in the ravine.

After the event the young woman described to my husband, she contacted him on line to inform him that it had cost her two thousand dollars in medical fees to rescue her dog from the damage done to it by a dog this man was walking as a professional. She asked that she be, at the very least, reimbursed. He told her he hadn't the money, and I doubt he was not being honest about that.

She could sue him in Small Claims Court, but she isn't interested. She's just grateful her little dog survived, and puts the event down to a lesson learned that bad things happen when one least expects them to. My husband feels vindicated in a sense; he had never warmed to, nor felt this man could be trusted, while I had the opposite impression of him.