I was relieved it was no longer raining as I strolled through the park after Mo, my dog. He was a rangy, long-haired mixture of several large breeds. I looked around carelessly to see what he was up to.
“Bugger!” I muttered under my breath as I saw he was about to slobber all over the young woman on the nearby seat. She looked more than usually apprehensive of him, and I hurried across to effect damage limitation.
“Sorry! He can’t resist a pretty girl.”
I winced inwardly the moment the words were out. Now why did I say that? I smiled and hoped she wouldn’t think me a complete idiot. I quickly attached Mo’s lead to the collar which hung loosely around his neck and told him to sit. My tone was not perhaps as strict as it could have been, but I had a big soft spot for him and he knew it. It was no use pretending to be cross.
I sat too. Strategically between Mo and the young woman. I smiled and held out my hand. I know she said something but I was concentrating on her face and didn’t register it at the time. I began to think she must be offended and felt embarrassment creep over my face.
The cold had given her a healthy flush to her cheeks. I’d seen her here before, but had never steeled myself to the task of introductions. Hardly likely she would have noticed me.
She asked me about Mo’s pedigree. I shrugged.
“Some sort of mongrel, partly St. Bernard.”
I remembered that I didn’t present a very promising picture in my old coat. People didn’t always understand that animals like Mo could ruin decent things in a moment, including furniture, cars and especially clothes. She was certainly giving me some scrutiny. I hoped she would believe I would clean up really well. I made a quip about it to break the awkwardness. I told her I’d seen her in the park before. Wrong. Now I’d got her all anxious again. Scared her more than the dog.
I quickly explained that I brought the dog here every day at around lunchtime, to get a break from writing. She asked what I was writing, and looked astonished when I mentioned my latest series of novels.
“Yes, it really is me.” I leaned closer. “But, please, don’t tell anyone.”
“Bugger!” I muttered under my breath as I saw he was about to slobber all over the young woman on the nearby seat. She looked more than usually apprehensive of him, and I hurried across to effect damage limitation.
“Sorry! He can’t resist a pretty girl.”
I winced inwardly the moment the words were out. Now why did I say that? I smiled and hoped she wouldn’t think me a complete idiot. I quickly attached Mo’s lead to the collar which hung loosely around his neck and told him to sit. My tone was not perhaps as strict as it could have been, but I had a big soft spot for him and he knew it. It was no use pretending to be cross.
I sat too. Strategically between Mo and the young woman. I smiled and held out my hand. I know she said something but I was concentrating on her face and didn’t register it at the time. I began to think she must be offended and felt embarrassment creep over my face.
The cold had given her a healthy flush to her cheeks. I’d seen her here before, but had never steeled myself to the task of introductions. Hardly likely she would have noticed me.
She asked me about Mo’s pedigree. I shrugged.
“Some sort of mongrel, partly St. Bernard.”
I remembered that I didn’t present a very promising picture in my old coat. People didn’t always understand that animals like Mo could ruin decent things in a moment, including furniture, cars and especially clothes. She was certainly giving me some scrutiny. I hoped she would believe I would clean up really well. I made a quip about it to break the awkwardness. I told her I’d seen her in the park before. Wrong. Now I’d got her all anxious again. Scared her more than the dog.
I quickly explained that I brought the dog here every day at around lunchtime, to get a break from writing. She asked what I was writing, and looked astonished when I mentioned my latest series of novels.
“Yes, it really is me.” I leaned closer. “But, please, don’t tell anyone.”
No comments:
Post a Comment