Day 13: Plymouth to Totnes — The Power of “No”

When I woke up this morning, I was genuinely excited to be back behind the piano.

After several frustrating days in Lostwithiel waiting for the VOK to be repaired, I was finally able to get back to what I came here to do. I had missed busking more than I expected, and I was looking forward to spending the day sharing music with people in Plymouth.

Unfortunately, it was not the day I had hoped for.

Looking back, I probably chose the wrong place to set up. I never really managed to get a full set in before things were interrupted.

One lady stopped to listen, put what appeared to be a £1 coin in my bucket and then walked straight over to my dogs.

I politely asked her not to pet them and offered to explain why if she wanted to listen. The first thing I said was something I believe applies to every dog, not just mine: you should always ask before petting somebody else’s dog.

Before I could explain any further, she demanded her money back.

I reached into my bucket, took out a £5 note and gave it to her.

She had given me about £1, but it was never about the money. I would rather give somebody more than they gave me than allow them to believe that a tip bought them access to me, my dogs or anything else that belongs to me.

In that moment, the extra £4 felt like a small price to pay for the privilege of being treated so poorly.

Not long afterwards, another man became involved and threatened me, saying he would put £1,000 on my head.

A little later, somebody else asked if he could pet the puppies. Again, I politely said no. He became so angry that he started punching himself in the head.

It was upsetting to watch, but it was also clear to me that this was about far more than being told he could not touch my dogs. I have lived enough life to recognise when somebody is fighting demons of their own, and whether those demons came from drugs, mental illness or both, I knew there was no point escalating the situation.

That does not excuse threatening behaviour or mean boundaries should disappear. It simply means I understood that I was dealing with somebody who was probably not in control of himself.

With all of that happening during what had barely been an hour of busking, and given that I had injured my neck earlier that morning and could barely turn my head, I decided it was time to pack everything away and move on.

As I packed up, I found myself thinking about something much bigger than what had happened that afternoon.

Why has the word “no” become so difficult for people to accept?

One of the biggest lessons I have learned over the last seventeen months is that boundaries are not there to punish people. They exist to protect the things that matter most.

Nobody is entitled to touch somebody else’s dog. Nobody is entitled to walk into somebody’s home. Nobody is entitled to another person’s time, belongings or personal space simply because they want to.

Saying “no” is not rude, and it is not personal. Sometimes it simply means somebody is protecting something they love.

I wish more people understood why asking before approaching a dog is so important. Every dog is different. Some are nervous, some are in training, some have difficult histories and some are recovering from trauma. The owner knows those things. A stranger does not.

If something were to happen, the responsibility would fall on the owner, not the person who ignored the boundary. Asking first is not just about safety. It is about respecting the dog, the owner and the work that may have gone into helping that dog feel safe.

Jake is a perfect example of that.

Jake had already had two owners before I adopted him, and when he first came into my life he found busy places incredibly stressful. He was reactive towards other dogs, and taking him busking was simply not fair on him. Over the last two years, we have spent a great deal of time helping him feel secure, learning what overwhelms him and never forcing him into situations he was not ready for.

That is why seeing him beside the piano today meant so much to me. He lay happily on his bed, rolled around on the pavement and calmly greeted strangers. His dog reactivity now rarely shows itself, and I can walk him through towns without the fear that every dog we pass will cause him distress.

To somebody walking past, he may simply have looked like a happy dog enjoying the attention. I saw two years of patience, trust and understanding. I also knew that one person ignoring a boundary or approaching him in the wrong way could have made the experience overwhelming for him.

That is why “no” matters. It does not always mean a dog is dangerous or unfriendly. Sometimes it means the owner is protecting years of progress and making sure the dog continues to feel safe.

As I have grown, Jake has grown too. Watching him today reminded me that growth is not always measured by the big moments. Sometimes you only realise how far you have both come when you stop and look back at where you started.

The dogs have always been my priority. They are my family, and I spend virtually every hour of every day with them. Protecting their safety, confidence and wellbeing will always matter more than finishing another set or avoiding disappointing somebody who does not understand my boundaries.

No amount of money in my bucket will ever change that.

Supporting somebody’s music also does not buy access to their life.

When somebody puts money into my bucket, I am genuinely grateful. But that support is for the music, the journey and the mission. It does not automatically give somebody permission to touch my dogs, enter my home, handle my belongings, or ignore a boundary simply because they decided to leave a tip.

Boundaries only work if we are prepared to maintain them, even when other people do not like them.

I left Plymouth and made it safely to Totnes this evening. I have heard wonderful things about this historic market town, and after today I am hoping for a warm welcome over the next few days.

Every town has its challenges, and I never judge a place by one difficult day. Tomorrow is another opportunity to put the piano where it belongs, meet new people and continue the journey.

Sometimes the best thing you can do after a difficult day is simply start again.

— James

Day 13 Counter
Plymouth to Totnes
Miles travelled: 26.5
Average speed: 12.6mph
Elevation gain: 1829 ft
Elevation loss: 1871 ft
Locations busked: 1 — Plymouth

Journey Total
Total miles travelled: 149.1
Total locations busked: 7