Mmmmm the 'fish putting up a post at this time of the week?, shouldn’t he be working away in ‘the grind’? Well yes, in all honesty I should be, but yesterday I seemed to have picked up a virus and as well as feeling lousy had little control over some of my bodily functions (too much information?). A little spritelier this morning but still not 100% so it appears that I’m heading for a quiet day of contemplation.
One thing that is occupying my mind (not a large void the fill) was the events reported in my last post and the following comments thereafter from you good folk. The general theme of these comments is to trust your dog’s instincts, which I do, but also the idea of a little ‘self protection’. As I’ve already stated I take no pleasure in confrontation and abhor the very idea of violence, but this does not prevent me from standing up for what I believe is right and I would gladly do anything to protect my family, even if it meant my life for theirs. My self control and ability to read or diffuse situations has increased exponentially over the years but upon occasion the red mist still clouds my judgment and vision, although this time was the first in a very long time.
But as I get older, though only middle aged at the moment, I realise that although my ‘wisdom’ (yes wisdom, I’m not yet a total duffer!) increases my body cannot do what it used to do in my younger years. Certainly my core strength has dropped noticeably since the operation as has my endurance levels, but are these also connected to the body wearing out slowly and not just the op I have to ask my self? It’s quite feasible that the red mist of last week could have resulted in personal injury or worse in a similar situation and then how would I provide for my family? But on the flip side if I had not have stepped up to the plate would my beloved Lucy have been injured or worse by this idiot?(she IS family). Another thing to consider is my nature; yes I’ll walk away given the opportunity but there is something deeply imbedded in my spirit that will just not let certain things go. Call it an overriding sense of right and wrong, which we all have our own interpretation of, but I’d be less of a man and untrue to myself if I walked away from certain situations.
So with the above waffling out of the way, I finally come to the point and that is in this day and age when our nanny state bans the honest from carrying anything apart fro a tooth pick (though maybe this is now also banned) what can a frail (ahem), gentle (splutter) and sweet natured gentleman (what the?) like myself do to avail himself of a little security, whilst keeping big brother happy, upon the trails? Well here’s the rub, three comments from Joe, Mark and Bob shed a little light and gave me the idea. Two suggested stout walking sticks whilst one suggested a priest (club for gently subduing fish), although Wolfy I thing that carrying this in the middle of a forest might be frowned upon, after all I don’t what to looked upon as the aggressor J. But a combination of these ideas lends itself to one idea – the