She suddenly heard a chorus of barking and snarling ahead. Without her glasses she could not make out much detail, but people seemed to be trying to separate a group of fighting dogs. Suddenly one dog, an overweight golden spaniel with floppy blond ears, broke free of the group and ran towards her. Without thinking, she crouched down and called gently to the dog. It came willingly enough. As she grabbed its collar, a young woman, almost hysterical with shock, ran to the dog and hugged it.
"They attacked him - they wouldn't let him go - I thought they would kill him."
X looked the dog over, gently patting and reassuring him. He was shaking, and one toenail was split and torn, but he did not appear to be badly hurt. The woman was pale and tearful - her hand was bitten and bleeding.
"His name's Muttley, I'm Lucy - he's not even mine - he's my uncle's - he's just a big baby really. Those dogs just attacked him for no reason."
She pointed to a pair of boxers being poorly restrained by a young man not far off. Another woman approached and introduced herself as an off-duty police officer. After names and statements were exchanged, X walked with Alice and the dog across the main road to a nearby veterinary clinic.
In subsequent months, she occasionally saw Muttley again in the company of an elderly, stocky man in a flat cap. She noticed he still stightly favoured the injured foot. One winter morning, out of a desire to connect with somebody outside of the office as much as anything, she decided to ask after him.
The man watched her warily as she approached, looking at her through gray, keen eyes.
"Excuse me, is this Muttley?"
"It is, why do you ask?"
She related the story. He smiled, warmly.
"Lucy told me the story. That was very kind of you. Thank you."
His name was Arthur Cawfell. He was semi-retired and held a part-time research post at the School of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene.
They would often meet after that - she on her way to work, he exercising the indolent Muttley, and would exchange pleasantries. She shared some of her African experiences with him, and he some of his own adventures.
One day he invited her to attend a lecture on NGO governance at the Frontline journalists' club in Paddington.
