Boris Meets Benson: The Gentleman vs. The Goblin

I knew the moment I first met Boris, accompanied by his flawlessly composed human, Basil, that this dog was no ordinary canine.

No. Boris is a gentleman. A refined, elegant, self-respecting creature with posture that would make the Royal Guard jealous.

And while Basil deserves some credit, this level of manners comes from plenty rigorous puppy training… and possibly a minor miracle.

Which brings us to Benson.

If Boris is the polished older brother, Benson is the awkward toddler who trips over his own enthusiasm.

Cute? Absolutely.

Graceful? Not even by accident.

Now, Benson not being fully trained is, shockingly, NOT his fault.

His grandmother (yes, me) may or may not have sabotaged discipline by beginning every firm command with, “But shame…”

So yes, I ruined him. I accept that.

But with the hike with Boris looming, the pressure was officially ON.

For an entire week before their meeting, Benson and I attempted last-minute training. By “training” I mean he bit the leash, ignored his name, dragged me for the walk, and trained ME to halt on HIS command.

Still, I bribed him with treats, and to his credit, he did improve. Just… not enough to qualify as "Boris approved disciplined.”

So, the big day was to be at Huddle Park.

Why? Because it was in my neck of the woods, and while Boris travels like a seasoned explorer, Benson… well, he hadn't travelled alone with me before.

And on a side note… if any of you think me getting lost the way I do is impossible, let me assure you—it is absolutely, tragically, spectacularly possible.

We were in MY neighbourhood, not Basil’s, and I still managed to get lost hunting for the correct parking lot, while Basil calmly waited in the actual, obvious, correct spot.

Anyway… moving on.

The first introduction was chaos. Benson yapped like an unhinged goblin.

Boris stood there like royalty wondering who invited the noisy peasant.

Basil, calm as always, said, “Just walk—they’ll sort it out.”

And… they did.

Boris trotted around living his absolute best life.

Benson scrambled behind him, taking twelve chaotic steps for every elegant stride that Boris floated through.

And the second Boris turned back to Basil?

Benson sprinted to me for protection, because apparently I’m the designated safe zone.

Huddle Park ended up being perfect - open space, fresh air, minimal opportunities for Benson to cause international incidents.

By the end, he was already exhausted from trying to keep up with his new big brother.

How did it all end? With Benson trying to keep up with Boris, determined to be part of the cool-kid club.

And if Basil asked Boris the next morning how he enjoyed his day with Benson, I’m fairly certain he’d respond:

“Benson who?”

Boris and Basil - so glad our paths crossed.

Meeting you both was an unexpected little joy I didn’t know I needed.

Benson is already planning his comeback tour.

The real trick now is finding dog-friendly, off-lead trails that cater to both the Regal Prince and the adorable peasant... but trust me, we absolutely will.