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A Guest Post By Gramps – “Is yon dug yours sonny?”

Posted Dec 12 2012 3:00am

The recent arrival of a new dog, last year, in my grandchildren’s household has brought back happy memories of my first dog, a border collie called Corrie. Having avidly read Jack London’s novel ‘Call of the Wild’ a vivid story of huskies, I badgered my father for a dog. I remember bringing him home snuggled inside my Anorak probably with the same look on my face as my granddaughter. Corrie became my constant companion and roamed the neighbourhood at my side apart from the times when he, partly encouraged by me, terrorised cats.

One day he vanished down a driveway in pursuit of a terrified cat and as usual I had to stand on the pavement waiting for him to come back. On this occasion, heralded by the shrieks of an irate cat owner, he appeared from around the back of the house and flashed passed me at greyhound velocity.

There was a screech of brakes and a dull thud as he ran straight into the side of a passing Ford Anglia. Turning around I was horrified to see Corrie sliding down the car revealing an indentation in the drivers door panel the shape of a dog in flight; the sort of thing you see on Tom and Jerry cartoons but with a smear of blood where the nose would have impacted.

I raised me eyes from surveying this catastrophic damage to find an arm resplendent with menacing tattoos of daggers and dragons and squat nicotine stained fingers leaning out of the window.

“Is yon dug yours sonny?”, the face above the arm enquired.

“Aye” I was forced to admit, as Corrie was now sat uncharacteristically at heel, tongue lolling and slightly cross eyed with a drizzle of blood on his black nose.

“Is yer dug a’right, ah could a run the poor beast ower”

Clearly the car owner hadn’t a clue as to the damage but would soon find out when he arrived home or tattoo parlour or tobacconists. Resisting the urge to look at the massive dent, I looked directly into his eyes and genuinely thanked him for not terminating my dog’s life.

As the Ford Anglia puttered down the road I, followed by Corrie, did a Olympic sprint in the opposite direction.

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