17 June 22 – Norman and the Creme Egg
I had another Norman related incident this week.
I was walking through town, with Norman obviously (because we’re bffs), minding my own business, probably daydreaming about what I was going to write about in this week’s newsletter, when I heard
When I hear ‘Hey, hey, hey you’ in the street I never assume it’s aimed at me, why would anyone be shouting at little old me, minding my own business walking through town.
It was getting closer and more aggressive, so I thought I’d better remove myself from the daydream and come back to silly old reality, just to see what all the blinking fuss was about. Someone close behind me was going to get a bollocking and it would be worth having a look.
I glanced back and there was a woman right there.
‘Do you know what you’ve just done?’ She was shouting and I felt spit.
‘Yes, you. Did you see what happened there? Did you see it? Did you?’ She was now right in my face. This was serious.
What the ‘eck had I just done? I was enjoying my daydream, and I couldn’t remember throwing a petrol bomb through a shop window, so what could have caused this…
‘He’ll probably die.’
What? I looked behind her down the street, expecting to see buildings falling and fire hydrants squirting water 50 feet into the air.
But I didn’t live in an American cop drama from the 70s so it was just a normal day in a normal street.
That’s better. But if another building falls down, I swear I’m writing to the council.
The woman pointed back up the street.
‘There was a creme egg on the floor. A full creme egg.’
Jesus, Mary and Joesph, there was a creme egg on the floor, not just any creme egg…
‘And your dog ate it.’
This woman had run down the street, shouting and dragging her child with her to give me this information.
‘Impossible,’ I said, ‘Norman wouldn’t do a thing like…’
‘He did and how irresponsible of you. That could kill your dog.’
I didn’t know what to do with this information. I obviously knew chocolate wasn’t great for dogs, and I tried to sort it out…
But all I found was some pegs, a tennis ball and the Sky remote.
The woman went on to tell me umpteen times that chocolate can kill dogs as well as listing several other toxic foodstuffs that would also do the job.
I made a mental note to move that extra strong rat poison away from Norman’s bowl in the kitchen when I got home.
I thought I was wearing a Skwiggles t-shirt at the time, but now I think about it, it must’ve been my second favourite.
It’s a little on the big side.
The woman, despite wearing a Lidl fleece, must have been one of the country’s leading lights in dog toxicity. How lucky I was to meet her in this small town.
‘…you absolute irresponsible fool.’ she continued with some enthuisasm. ‘Once the vomiting gets too bad you need to….’
She must’ve read the back as well.
Her eagerness to make sure I knew every little detail was to be admired, and then, just before the heat-death of the Universe, she moved on. As she left, she said:
‘But it’s a labrador, it’ll eat anything and be fine.’
And then she headed off in the direction of the National Toxicology Laboratory, which must be situated on aisle three close to the meats-I’ve-never-heard-of section.
Norman survived, you’ll be glad to know
He’s only joking there, the little kidder.
That’s it once again.
Two strides further down the street from the belittling, I met another ‘character.’ I use the word ‘character’ to mean anything from quirky to bumwipe. I’ll leave you to decide where along the scale this bum.. sorry, character is.
‘Having trouble with your dog, mate?’ He said as I was passing. ‘I can sort him out for you in two weeks, he’ll come back good as gold. I’ve trained a load of trail hounds, I’m not cruel just firm. £100, I’ve got some sheds out the back of my house, you won’t recognised him when he comes back, all above board…’
No, it wasn’t Graham from Dogs Behaving Badly, he was across the road charging £600, so this guy was a bargain.
Anyway, I didn’t catch the last bit because I was busing running. I have a strict two characters a day rule and I’d maxed it out.
Have a great weekend.
And all you father’s out there, hope you get a Skwiggles t-shirt on Sunday.
Take care and all the best,Ian