Image from Wikipedia
What happened to Zemanta? I’m away for one short month and WordPress has changed everything.
I feel a prompt post coming on…
Yo, readers! I’m back! Did you miss me? I told you I’d be back. Thank you for your patience.
I had a lovely blogging break and feel refreshed and ready to write again…or I did, until yesterday.
Back With A Bang…Literally
I had intended to write my first post-break post tomorrow, on the first (you will note that my break didn’t wash away my propensity for mangled sentences; there’s no break in the world long enough to make that happen), but I had such a day yesterday, I wanted to tell you all about it; and to boast about how kind the people of Stockport are.
The day began in the ordinary way: at 08:35, my Yorkshire Terriers Toby and Molly, my friend Pam and I left my house for our weekly walk along the river Mersey, on the Pennine Way. It takes us into the heart of Stockport, under the M60 motorway, but away from roads, so it’s safe to let the dogs off the lead.
We’d been out about fifteen minutes and Toby was a little way off, investigating smells. Have you ever walked Yorkshire Terriers? They were bred as ratters. Try throwing a ball – they’ll get halfway to where it lands and be distracted by a smell, à la Doug and squirrel in Up, and that will be that for the game of Fetch as far as a Yorkie is concerned.
Toby was nose-deep (probably in something disgusting), when his body language changed and he realised he was being stared at intensely by a large dog which had come up behind us, a husky-type dog. The husky charged, scenting prey. Toby legged it. He ran up the path, under the subway and followed the path until it turned left.
I acted instinctively, forgot I was fifty and charged after him, yelling his name in what was intended as a command but which came out as a whiny beg. Fortunately, Pam had the presence of mind to grab Molly before she ran after me running after the husky running after Toby. We must have been quite a sight, with the husky owner running after me running after the husky running after Toby…who ran into rush hour traffic.
I rounded the corner as he dashed across the far four lanes. The traffic in the two lanes closest to me had stopped so I belted over to the other pavement and suddenly realised I was running downhill, faster than I’ve ever run before, and I would very shortly be crashing face-first to the ground.
And lo, it came to pass. My left hand must have taken the impact because it hurt-hurt-hurts today, up my arm to my shoulder. I thought at first I had sprained it and I’m lucky not to have broken it, such was my momentum. It is worth the pain because my face merely bounced off the pavement, leaving no scratches or bumps, just temporary indentations where my glasses had tried to give me eyes in the back of my head.
A car pulled up, and another, I think. Someone helped me stand, a cyclist chased off after Toby, who was running the wrong way through the cars on a busy intersection.
See the triangle of grass above the .co.uk? I had crossed the diagonal red path above it and was now prostrate on the path to its left. Toby was running down the slip road in front of the Pyramid, which has a large white truck going one way and a yellow van going the other.
And I will stop there for today, for two reasons:
1. Always leave them wanting more and
2. My arm hurts. Which leads to three:
3. Always leave them feeling sorry for you: it may result in chocolate.