Digit's as keen as mustard when it comes to retrieving - he will have a go at picking up literally anything.

I''ve been out to a shoot  dinner in a Dartmoor pub to look down and see Digit sat beside me clutching a ladies handbag that he'd srolen from another room; I've been hand delivered a very nice new Browning B525 Grade 5 in a beautiful Conway leather gunslip in the field, and one morning he even retrieved a "proper" baby fallow deer that he found hiding out in some thicket (the deer was released unharmed and monitored to ensure its survival). He may be only a small cocker, but he'll try to pick up anything and everything if he thinks that there's even the slightest chance of being told that he's a "good boy".

As this mornings delayed train slowed on its approach to one of the station stops the carriage end (by the door, where I more often than not stand for the duration of my journey) filled with people anxious to continue with the next leg of their journey.

Both dogs watched intently as more and more people crammed themselves, sardine like, into the tight space. Every person was eyed over and sniffed for signs of food, pheasants, and other dogs (probably in that order, with more emphasis on food than anything else!).

Then all hell broke loose. I saw it coming before it happened but my reactions were nowhere  near fast enoughto stop what happened next. Digits ears pricked, his muscles began to twitch, and his face became momentarily fixated - the look that he gets just before he's about to launch himself at something interesting (usually a pheasant trying to hide away under a bramble).

Digit had spied a dead animal in the form of a pair of very trendy "Ugg Boots" being worn by a very atractive and slight young lady on her way to university. The form didn't matter - this was a dead animal and all dead animals must be retrieved to the boss (ok, I may not be the boss in many cases, but I ma the boss in the eyes of this cute little cocker... not so sure about Charlie though!).

As his teeth closed firmyl around the boot and puled the young lady let out a loud scream. Totally undisturbed by the noise and rigourous leg shaking, Digit carried on with his mission -  I was getting that boot whether the girl was wearin it or not!

Everybody on the train looked on in horror (as did I) as the little cocker savaged the young ladys foot. The girl was screaming and shaking her leg, the dog was puilling harder, and eventualy she slipped her grip on the lady stod next to her, lost her balance, and fell backwards to the ground with Digit still tugging at her foot.

On the floor she was easier to attacke, and Digit had the boot off in no time. True to form, there was nowhere for me to hide as he pushed his way through the forest of legs to deliver the saliva covered boot perfectly to my hand.

I didn't realy know what to say, so I just helped the girl to her feet and lamely offered her her boot back. Not content with the embarassment which he had already caused to me and the young lady (she was wearing a very short skirt when she fell, but as any gentleman would, I averted my eyes!), as soon as she beant to try to refit her boot the little bugger was at it again. This time she saw it coming so just about managed to keep her balance and fend the dog off just long enough for me to get a handle on him.

My panic stricken apologies flowed like a steady stream, and I very generously (I thought) offered compensation in the form of the remains of my coffee to steady her neves - I've no idea why, but she refused my offer! Luckily, for me as well as Digits longevity, the girl has dogs of her own and so saw the funny side. I see her on the train quite often now, she always smiles and says "hello", but she does give us a wide birth!