I was going to blog about one of my favourite comedians and essayists David Sedaris today. His series on radio 4
Meet David Sedaris is an absolute hoot and well worth investing in for just half an hour a week. But events conspired against this cultural gallop and instead I will share with you what only can be called
The Trelawnyd Zebra Crossing Incident
( Tom Stephenson look away now)
We have only one zebra crossing in the village, and this as you would expect is located in front of the school. Given the amount of speeders on London Road, I always make for the zebra crossing when out with the dogs and will often launch myself ( keeping the dogs safely behind me) onto the first " stripe" in order to bring the speeding cars screeching to a halt, often just inches away from me!
( readers of going Gently from years ago..may remember I had an altercation with a man in a pick up van at the very crossing which resulted at me throwing a bag of poo into his open boot!)
Today, I tend to use the crossing more because both Meg and George prefer to amble rather than gallop when out for their walk
This morning I used my tried and tested, " foot on the first stripe" challenge to an overly fast thornhill skip driver, who had to break so hard his mobile phone slithered off his dashboard.
The driver gave me a withering look but waited for several cars to come to a halt from the opposite direction before I marshaled the dogs in order to cross the road.
Now when four cars and one lorry are waiting for you to cross the road, what you don't want is a 26 kilo bulldog to stop dead in the centre of a zebra crossing, but stop dead she did and without a hint of embarrassment , Winifred brought the dog convoy to a scrum, squatted with a loud grunt and started to push out one of the largest and wettest turds in modern day history, right in the centre of a wide white stripe.
The lorry driver rolled his eyes, and I could see a woman in the car behind craning her neck to see what the hold up was.
When bulldogs poo.....they cannot and will not be rushed!
I smiled apologetically at the traffic and tried to pull Winnie onto the pavement, but she wasn't for pulling, so I made a show of retrieving a doggy poo bag from my pocket to show just how responsible I am as a dog owner.
Yes, you've guessed it
I had run out of doggy bags!
Mind you, by the look of Winnie's offering as it slowly and surely arrived, I really was in need of a large black bin bag rather than a dainty pooper scooper bag.
So there I was, standing in the road with three dogs in one hand and a bulldog squeezing out a turd the size of a small child in the other!..... No bags......and a captive audience of increasingly irritated drivers watching every move.
Finally, Winnie finished the caramel coloured " mr whippy" and red faced I had to mouth to the lorry driver a rather lame " sorry no bags" to which he mouthed out a reply something on the lines of " fucking disgusting "
I dragged the dogs to the curb as the lorry and the first car on the opposite side of the road moved forward. The woman driving the car was shaking her head at me as she swerved around the turd, the massive wet turd which was then flattened with a sickening squelch a second later as the car behind hers smacked into it.
Oh the shame
The village school children in front of the aforementioned crossing
Last year
