When we're out walking there's a bit of fence he doesn't like. He always changes sides so that I am in-between him and the nasty big brown fence. What? ... Yes, I know you're only being careful but I've never known a fence to attack anyone ... Yes, there is a first time for everything, I know, but quite honestly you're more likely to be attacked by me than the fence ... don't look at me like that; you know perfectly well why I'm likely to attack you ... I'll give you a clue: it begins with w and ends with oof.
He also won't come down the back steps unless I stand at the bottom and encourage him.
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