A Bad Un?

Tis that time of week once more, as I settle down at my keyboard, to regale whoever may be interested of my last few days ‘break’ in-between the ‘grind’. Why the highlight upon the word break I hear you inquire? (Ok so know you’ve had it pointed out you can now ask!). Well if truth be told going to work upon the morrow feels like it may indeed be a break following these few days exertions, although come tomorrow you can bet a pound to a pinch of salt that I’ll be as miserable as ever once I’ve set foot on the factory floor.

Don’t get me wrong here I’m not complaining, far from it, all this evenings’ aches and twinges are well earned and I thoroughly enjoyed earning them. I shan’t bore you with the mundane suffice to say the bounty from my last post has been fully installed in the holiest of holy places (yes the garage is just become more and more spiritual!), I had a cracking day boarding up Chunky Monkey’s workshop against the winter’s coming chill. I’ve walked me little legs off and my friend and neighbour, Bert, has started to introduce my to the black art of the wood lathe.

But to be honest the week did not start off so promising. I’d headed off to the less well trod trails at loggerheads country park hoping to bolster my meagre haul of sloe berries after a couple of bankers proved fruitless last week. As usual I was accompanied by the lingering odour you all know as Lucy. To reach my last resort for sloe berries we had to follow the main walk through Loggerheads before diverting off cross country to where my last hope of a decent supply of winter warmer hopefully awaited. We’d dropped down to the river now flowing at a good pace, hard to picture the dry bed of just a few weeks ago, to allow Lucy her usual emersion and then climbed back to the main trail, it was here that my week was nearly ruined. As we crested the trail a couple of walkers past us at a fair rate of knots, power walking I think people call it (stupid is what I call it), heading in the direction we were to follow. But then the strangest thing happened, Lucy followed these folk and as she approached them from behind I swear she was stalking the nearest bloke. Now regulars here (is that up to five now?) may have some inkling about the nature of Lucy and I hope that I’ve managed to convey in the past that a sweeter natured friend and companion could not be asked for. I stepped up a gear and watched events unfold before I could reach her. The gentleman (very loose term used here) must have had his spidey sense aroused because as Lucy closed up, still no aggression just a wariness about her, he spun around lightening quick and struck out at Lucy with his walking pole. Time froze for me, the stick whistled just over her head as she read the move, but instead of what I’d expect from Lucy now i.e. the scampering, crying wreck trying to regain my side, something even more out character for her happened; hair now raised from ears to tail she crouched, lips drawn back (I didn’t even know she had teeth) she was tensing herself for the spring. Unperturbed the gentleman (now really stretching the description) raised is stick once more whilst his left hand fumbled in his coat pocket.

I don’t think that I’ve ever cover ground so fast in the whole of my life, leaping onto Lucy smothering any attempt of her to engage further in something that I dreaded. I babbled apologies whilst clipping a lead onto her collar, only to met by a tirade of abuse and foul loathness that had no place being spoken regardless of the situation. Words such as ‘put down’ and ‘bring it here, I’ll do it’ were uttered, regardless of my best Henry Kissinger impressions. At this point the red mist started falling, after all until he’d struck out there was no aggression just wariness on Lucy’s part and secondly she’s family. I tried to defuse matters before things really got out of hand, I really do abhor violence and will leap through hoops to avoid it but if I let the mist control me then I can’t back down and that’s not right or pleasant. But this guy was not having any of it, I tried explaining that this was certainly a one off and had in all honestly not occurred before, again the tirade of abuse and foul loathness of words I’d long forgotten were spat at me. As he stepped towards us I spied what I believe could have been a knife handle now in his left hand, the mist descended and control was forgotten. Raising myself from the crouch over Lucy I dropped the lead, releasing hands and stepped forward myself. Surprisingly my voice was quite as I spoke the next few words “listen to me, my dog has never bitten, not a soul – but I have sunshine”, no swearing or hysterics just a few steps and a statement of intent whilst holding his gaze for the first time. And there it was, doubt or even fear, but his whole demeanour had changed and he was no longer a threat. I turned my back motioned to Lucy to follow and headed back to the car. Once there I couldn’t even get my keys in the ignition for shaking, fear, anger and reaction had all affected me. I couldn’t believe what had just past and I felt sick to my stomach, as I drove home I thought about the events just gone by and hoping that my instincts were right about Lucy and that she’d found a bad un. Enough to say that Clare didn’t get the full story or else all my blog posts would be about cleaning and washing dishes!

I left it a couple of days before loading up the fun cruiser and heading out again, still slightly concerned about the events gone by and Lucy’s temperament, was age catching up to her? We drove up to new trials, unwalked by our six feet, Motorhead’s acoustic version of the Ace of Spades bringing a massive grin to my face. My unease was totally unwarranted the walk was breathtaking in its scenery and colours, and double bonus a glut of sloes discovered out of the blue. We came across one hiker, an elderly gent (proper use of the word) who before I could grasp Lucy’s collar had bent down rubbing her head as if he’d known her all his life. I explained my reserved feelings and reaction to this gent who’d pass as Father Christmas if he’d had more of a girth (oh and a sled with deer, toys and a red suit), to which he just said “nought wrong with this un, must have been a bad un”. Since this we’ve hit the trails once more and Lucy has not batted an eye at anyone, “must have been a bad un” well I hope so ‘cause I don’t like doubting my gal, even when covered in mud. So faith restored I’ll just be leaving you with the usual attempts at some half decent pictures, taken over the second and more productive walks.

Out of her depth?

As found...... Mmmmm squirrels?

 Just a thought whilst uploading the pictures, big or small nature is pretty special isn't it?

Cheers for enduring my musings,

Your friend,

John