We’ve just completed our first day under the new, tougher measures intended to slow the spread of SARS-CoV-2 and we’ve found it strangely calming.

For some weeks now we’ve felt very at odds with the general public’s attitude to the virus.  On dog walks I’ve gone out of my way to avoid contact with others, while they’ve been happy stop and chat to one another in close proximity, seemingly oblivious to the risk of infection. In my fitness photography business I’ve had to bite back the urge to contradict prospective clients when they’ve been saying “Why would the gyms close? This coronavirus thing isn’t even as bad as regular flu.” When the government’s advice got stronger but people still didn’t seem to be changing their habits we knew tougher measures were coming, and I was very concerned that we might end up losing the right to walk Beanie and Biggles entirely.

If Biggles could sense any tension from me, he didn’t show it. As long as he got his food on time, could ram his furry bottom into my face when making a bed next to me on the sofa, and was still able to trade socks for treats, all was right in his world.

Beanie however clearly picked up on my worries and began following me around like a velcro dog.  Any time I left the room, she had to keep tabs on me. When I returned from an unavoidable trip to the local shop for milk, she danced round me as though I’d been gone for days. Any time Susan stretched out on the sofa for a nap, Beanie would mount her legs for a stress-relieving and highly vigorous humping session. The only time my little girl could properly relax was when the whole pack was together in the living room.

Now the “lockdown” has happened and the rules have been spelled out, all that has changed. Dog walks are still on the menu, and Beanie and Biggles can still enjoy two each day, so long as I do one while Susan does the other. I took the furries out for their first constitutional this morning. Just as we were setting out we encountered a neighbor returning from their walk; I automatically moved to the extreme opposite side of the street, and for the first time they did the same, allowing us to pass each other whilst staying well over the recommended 2 metres apart.

I took the pups along country roads that I know to be very, very quiet; ordinarily I could do that same walk every day for a month and barely meet another soul. Today – ironically due to the lockdown rules – I encountered several other walkers and cyclists, but they all knew to keep to their side of the road. I’m not wild about having our freedom curtailed like this, but it’s a big relief to me that everyone finally seems to be taking the threat seriously. As I’ve relaxed, so has The Beanster. She’s still humping Susan’s legs of course, but now the rumpy-pumpy is less desperate and no longer resembles a scene from an extreme porn flick.

All we need now is for the supermarkets to get their acts together, implement social distancing policies and stock the shelves, and maybe we can get through this thing without getting infected. I just hope they do that soon, because our supply of bone-shaped biccies isn’t going to last forever.

Waddya mean the biccies are running out! Get to the shops now Dad, this is an emergency!