Off the lead

You know it’s true; we don’t know what to do with our new-found freedom. Well that’s not strictly true; I’m learning… baby steps and all that.

Going through the front door just to stand in the street, or cautiously taking a few steps out into the big new world. I’ve even taken the dog out for a walk. That was interesting.

I’d forgotten what a dollop of dog poo, done up inside a plastic bag, felt like… sort of warm and squidgy, since you ask. And oh the desire to get rid of the bloody thing in a receptacle designated for such a purpose. Why are there never any dog poo disposal bins around when you need one?

Then there’s this spot beneath a wall that he will never pass without a protracted bout of concentrated, obsessive sniffing. Believe me he could be there all day if I let him. I’ve no idea what the attraction is, the spot concerned looks just like all the other spots beneath the wall, but not to him. He will not leave it until he has sniffed it for a good three minutes on some occasions. Then he will swivel his body around several times, now facing me – now away from me, until he is comfortable, only then will he raise a hind leg and lubricate the bottom of this oh so ordinary wall. Kidneys vacated, he is finally happy to consider moving on.

You might think that having walked the dog around the block would be quite enough excitement for one week, but no. Maybe emboldened by my new-found freedom, two days ago I got into the car and actually started the engine. Not only did I start the engine but I also released the handbrake, put my foot on the clutch and put the thing in gear. Yes I know what you’re thinking: Is there no end to the man’s reckless abandon? Far from it.

Taking a deep, deep breath I then let out the clutch and slowly manoeuvred the Toyota out of the garage and onto the open road… well OK the back lane behind my house. Not content with just moving all of eight metres, I then pointed the vehicle in the direction of Main Street and set off on a hardly credible voyage of discovery. Well there was nobody else in the car, so no danger of breaching social distancing rules. Oh the joy! The ecstatic adrenalin rush that comes with belting along the village’s main street in third gear, it almost made me tearful.

But what if Sergeant Mercieca should see me? Panic attack! I sped… well as fast as you can speed in third, up to the roundabout near the pet shop and hurried back to my garage sweating profusely… me that is, not the garage.

I left my vehicle in the exact same position it had been in before my clandestine spin around the town. I just hoped it would cool down before the expected knock on the door from the local fuzz: “You were seen at the wheel of your Toyota Corona just minutes earlier. What have you got to say for yourself?”

“Me guv? No, not me. There’s dozens of blue Coronas in the village. Not guilty.”

Ah the simple joys of lockdown release.