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.
Published by
Razzamatazz
Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.)
This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000….
My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas.
A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road.
I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.
Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.)
This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000….
My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas.
A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road.
I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.
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`any photos gonna be posted of your twat?
a good kick in its balls may sort it. but make sure you have an escape route planned!