When only a few words will do...
When I was much younger we went on a family holiday to Jersey. It was in the days before sat nav so we explored obscure parts of the island following my dad’s carefully plotted ‘shortcuts’.
On one occasion the shortcut didn’t work out. We discovered our intended route was cordoned off by roadworks. We turned around and made our way back.
Another car approached, about to make the same mistake. As we drew level, my dad wound down his window a fraction and uttered two words, rather pompously, “All blocked.”
We howled with laughter about it for the rest of the holiday. We slotted those words in at every possible opportunity. He justified it by saying he only had a couple of seconds to transmit this vital information to the other driver. We still titter about it now, nearly 40 years later.
The reason I’m relaying this story is that I’ve had similar instances on dog walks.
Flossie and I were mooching through some woodland when we saw a lady with a large dog in the distance.
She shouted across at quite some volume, “Bitch or dog?”
Taken aback at this unusual greeting, but realising what she was asking, I yelled back, “Bitch!” I’m sure if anyone had stumbled across us at that point they would have been alarmed.
She explained that her dog was scared of male dogs so she needed to check quickly if mine would be acceptable.
Having established that she was, we always have a pleasant chat when we meet.
The other day, as we were walking home, Flossie became transfixed by a squirrel running up a tree. We stood motionless for a while, gazing up, the squirrel staring back with its beady eyes.
I felt I needed to provide an explanation to a man walking past, who probably hadn’t given us a second thought.
“Squirrel” I announced, as if this would make perfect sense to him. He raised an eyebrow and quickened his pace.
Sometimes it’s best not to say anything.