The woman with the nasty big black Labrador was stalking us again this morning on the rec’.

I have never spoken to her but I find her rather irksome, to say the least. In fact, she annoys the hell out me – and Audrey. I firmly believe that certain people should not be allowed to own dogs, and she is one of them.

Her’s is very large and aggressive. Due, no doubt, not to the animal’s fundamental nature, but to the woman’s lack of proper control over it. The Labrador is obviously a lot stronger than she is – despite her substantial weight – and is always in danger of breaking loose from her grip and advancing menacingly toward Audrey with resolute intentions of canine assault.

The problem is, instead of walking away from us, she stands her ground and waits for us to pass. She even does this if we turn and walk in the opposite direction: she will go the other way around the footpath until we inevitably encounter each other again. To me, this is madness; she is mentally ill. She is certainly a very obtuse individual. I think it would benefit everyone concerned if she were put down out of my misery.

Each time, as we draw near, she keeps up a teasingly hissed set of commands under her breath to the dog that rise in intensity and amplitude. ‘No, no, noo, nooo, noooooo. NO! NO!’ Then as we move past, her voice rises to fever pitch: ‘No, Albert! No! NO! ALBERT! NO! ALBEEEERT!’

This is rather like telling the animal: ‘Wait, wait. Waaaiit, waaaaaiiittt. NOW! ATTACK! ATTACK!’ Excited beyond all bodily control, the dog is straining like a frothing monster, trying to break free and begin its violence.

This pantomime happened again today. But to make matters worse, on this occasion, Audrey pulled so hard on her lead that I slipped and fell on to the wet grass. I landed heavily on my hands and knees and was stunned for a moment. Blades of rain-soaked grass were like dancing sarabands before my eyes.

When I stood up, the woman had gone and Reg was standing there in her place. ‘Where did you come from?’ I enquired of him breathlessly.

‘I was watching you, Davy-lad. With the bird.’

‘Bird?‘

‘She’s gorgeous, she is.’

‘That stupid woman?’

‘She might not be your type, Davy-boy, but she certainly boils my potatoes, if you know what I mean.’

‘Boils your potatoes?‘ My voice was getting a little high in pitch.

‘Oh, yeah.’ He enthused. ‘I’d fuck a wall if I thought she was behind it.’ An image sprung into my mind that I don’t thing I will ever be able to successfully erase.

‘Reg!‘

‘Sorry, Davy-me-lad, but that blondie is special. She’s lady-gold.’

I tried to speak and gasp at the same time but found it impossible.

‘Lost for words, eh, Davy?’

‘I am, rather. You amaze me, Reg, you really do.’

‘Oh, I know. It’s difficult to be amazed and speak at the same time, Davy-boy. That’s called multitasking. Men can’t do it. You need a woman for that.’

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