You Twat’s First Walk

June 12th 2006

My intention was to take You Twat out for a total of five walks, contriving to lose him on the fifth of our jaunts. I would have preferred to lose him on the first of our walks, because since he has started barking and howling again he’s quickly built up to and seemingly surpassed his previous sound levels, but to do so would only point the finger of suspicion at someone who is already deeply under suspicion for recently rendering him comatose.

Things started to go pear-shaped the moment I attached You Twat’s new lead (£4.50 from Dogerama) to his collar (£6 from Dogerama, a necessary purchase after I’d bought the lead only to discover that You Twat didn’t have a collar either. Actually this suited me; if he’d had a collar there might have been a name and address on it. Naturally there is no name and address on the collar I bought, not a good thing if you happen to be a lost dog and someone finds you, but a good thing for someone intent on losing a dog).

The problem that immediately presented itself was that having attached the lead to You Twat’s collar I set off walking for the back garden gate at my usual steady three miles-per-hour, whereas You Twat set off at a speed that would have left the winner of the Greyhound Derby in its wake.

I could probably have coped with a greyhound but You Twat is a big strong dog, and as I held on to the lead its breaking strain was tested to the full and unfortunately not found wanting. Consequently my arm was almost wrenched out of its socket as I held on to the lead, and both my feet left the ground at the same time.

I was now on my knees, being dragged along the Pollitt’s dog shit-strewn lawn towards the back gate. I managed to stagger to my feet only just in time to avoid being dragged into an ornamental stone bird bath, and was dragged into a fully laden clothes drying carousel, where my head became entangled in the washing lines. Fortunately I managed to grab hold of the carousel’s central column with my spare hand otherwise my head could very well have been pulled clean off my shoulders.

You Twat ploughed on regardless of my plight.  Fortunately the carousel mustn’t have been mounted very securely because after only token resistance You Twat, assisted by me, pulled it clean out of the ground. I was now being dragged along the lawn again in what can only be described as a melee of carousel and Pollitt’s sundry clothing.

At this point I had the good sense to let go off the lead. (Some might say I might have taken this precaution at an earlier juncture but the entire incident only lasted for about five seconds)

I hauled myself to my feet and took stock of myself. My right arm felt as though it had had a tug-of-war team pulling on it for the last half hour; my neck was throbbing from almost being strangled; thanks to my unnatural exertions my bad back had started up again; and, while not covered in dog shit, my clothes bore more than a passing acquaintance with it.

You Twat stood at the back gate looking anxiously at me and wagging his tail. He could have wagged it all day as far as I was concerned. My You Twat walking days are over. Enough is enough. Plan B is called for.