Never Walk With Children or Animals!

Rainonwindow Woke to rain battering the window, stair rods from Heaven greeting the morn!  First thought is, "Oh no, at the Eye Hospital this afternoon, don’t want to get my hair wet walking The Mutleys"!  Now, in the written word, that sentiment does seem just a weeny bit selfish!  However, I paid the price . . .

Decided to load The Mutleys in the car for the ride as had decided walking would have to be postponed.  Just set off and suddenly (yes, it really was that quick!), the rain stopped as though a Divine tap had been turned off and the sun emerged.  Relented on the walking but felt our field was a step too far . . . just not in the mood for mounting the style this morning.

Drop daughter at school having queued at the temporary traffic lights erected in a back road during the night (THAT should be illegal) and decide on Plan B.  This involves a short drive but Terry’s on Radio 2 and making me smile, so I’m up for a little motoring.  Arrive at track.  No, not dog track, although that might be an excellent way to exercise one’s hounds without moving.  (Note to self:  Investigate purchase of faux fur rabbit and ball of string.)  This gravelled track is about a quarter of a mile but just a pleasant walk around an open green area.  The track rises on one side of the green and there is a very steep grassy incline down to the green.  Please note this point, of significance later on. 

By this time the sun is blinding, I can’t wear my sunglasses because, as I mentioned, I’m off to the Eye Hospital this afternoon and am wearing my specs (wrong prescription as hardly ever used and son says that since I stood on them, upon wearing they look as though they have been stapled to my face – OK I did flatten the bridge a little!), so can’t wear my contacts today.  (Sorry, I should have stopped for breath somewhere in that sentence.)  By now am sneezing like a good ‘un because of the brightness of the sun.  Spot an old lady and her daughter (an assumption but noses like that can’t be a coincidence) innocently walking their little West Highland Terrier.  Thought how they matched, white hair, white fur, you get the idea?  As we were navigating the circle in opposite directions, it was inevitable we should pass at some point. 

Grass3 Grass looks quite harmless, don’t you think?  Huh, don’t be fooled!

Alf (it had to be him) rushes down the incline to meet Westie on the green.  My vertigo’s kicking in.  Still sneezing.  Call Alf in as much of a mistressey-type voice as I can muster.  Must consult vet, dog seems to have lost his hearing.  Westie and Alf play tag.  Alf decides to change the rules of the game.  Oh no.  Oh yes!  Alf decides he’s a young man who must take his chances when he can.  I set off down steep incline to stop an unwanted pregnancy and, for a moment, thought I was having an out-of-body experience as I moved effortlessly through time and space.  Ended up heaped on right side.  Flat rubber soles on long wet grass is not an ideal marriage.  Then, the ultimate pride crusher – now close up can see VERY elderly owner at top of slope offering me a hand to get me up off the wet grass.  I declined for fear of either dislocating her shoulder or bringing her tumbling down upon me.  Felt strong wish for grappling iron.

In a ‘self can manage’ rush of pride, exclaimed I could manage, thank you!  At 45%, with crushed pride and rubber soled slip-ons, it ain’t easy to regain vertical posture.  Achieved with difficulty.  Took one step and ended up in heap again.  Clothing now soaked.  Old lady becoming stressed.  I’m afraid she may go into a decline but pray she delays it until I get off this blessed mountain side – well, it felt like one by now.  Felt a bit shirty, actually.  Daughter (not mine, thankfully she was at school or she would be dining off this one for months!), just stood watching as her mother threatened to implode.  While trying to fight gravity, did my best to placate rising panic in Mother, while hiding my own.  At this rate I’d still be there at nightfall!

Think laterally, that’s what a girl should do in such a circumstance.  Wondered why on earth I hadn’t just gone to the bottom of the incline and exited across grassed area.  Assure Old Lady this plan of action will solve problem.  I’m up and away rather like that faux fur rabbit I mentioned earlier.  Sue, as ever, trots at my side.  Hardly dare to imagine where Alf might be.  Bless.  Turn round to see him standing looking at me, tail wagging at twice normal speed.  Think my dilemma may be reported in the Canine Wag Mag, too!

Good news is I think the ‘thud’ as I hit the ground prevented any funny business between Alf and his little friend!  Now, what’s the number for Battersea Dogs’ Home . . .

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