One Man and his Fat Diabetic Dog
In times gone by, when I’ve returned off holiday it’s been a proper shock. Not this time. I truly understand how relieved the Hobbits must have been to return to the lush and sleepy Hobbiton after a trip to Mordor. In the past it has been the reverse of that for us.
Many a time I’d park the car in the one parking space we had, sometimes having to deal with it being occupied, and then off load all the gear into our tiny house. There would often be the dulcet sounds of a motorbike having its engine turned over for no apparent reason. It always reminded me of the scene from Kelly’s Heroes when the Germans had to start the Tiger Tanks engines for 20 minutes every 4 hours for some bullshit reason. Maybe the neighbour had been influenced by the film? And if the engine wasn’t running sometimes kids would be riding the motorbikes up and down the streets, which was a beautiful sound.
And then I’d walk down to the shop to get some essentials, past all the litter, the dogshit bags that had been discarded in the trees and people walking their fat diabetic dogs for their 1st or 2nd 100m walk of the day, and I’d be thinking all the time, “Well, here we are, back to reality!”.
But now that’s all in the past. Several minutes off the motorway we start to descend into our lush and sleepy town. The view of the valley is spectacular and the air is clean. We can now park more than 6 cars on the drive if we want and there isn’t a man-made noise to be heard. Nell the Border Collie comes to visit us when we arrive, she wanders freely around the grounds and must run several marathons a day. There used to be a beautiful Collie on the street at the old place. I imagine it ate that much chips and Mars Bars that it can’t fit out of the door anymore and now spends its days sat watching Jeremy Kyle and Neighbours, much like its fat owner.
Any road, it’s a pleasure coming back home.
Many a time I’d park the car in the one parking space we had, sometimes having to deal with it being occupied, and then off load all the gear into our tiny house. There would often be the dulcet sounds of a motorbike having its engine turned over for no apparent reason. It always reminded me of the scene from Kelly’s Heroes when the Germans had to start the Tiger Tanks engines for 20 minutes every 4 hours for some bullshit reason. Maybe the neighbour had been influenced by the film? And if the engine wasn’t running sometimes kids would be riding the motorbikes up and down the streets, which was a beautiful sound.
And then I’d walk down to the shop to get some essentials, past all the litter, the dogshit bags that had been discarded in the trees and people walking their fat diabetic dogs for their 1st or 2nd 100m walk of the day, and I’d be thinking all the time, “Well, here we are, back to reality!”.
But now that’s all in the past. Several minutes off the motorway we start to descend into our lush and sleepy town. The view of the valley is spectacular and the air is clean. We can now park more than 6 cars on the drive if we want and there isn’t a man-made noise to be heard. Nell the Border Collie comes to visit us when we arrive, she wanders freely around the grounds and must run several marathons a day. There used to be a beautiful Collie on the street at the old place. I imagine it ate that much chips and Mars Bars that it can’t fit out of the door anymore and now spends its days sat watching Jeremy Kyle and Neighbours, much like its fat owner.
Any road, it’s a pleasure coming back home.
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| Fat Dog |
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| Hobbiton |
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