Let’s do this together

I had to rush and take Boz out for a quick walk in the park early yesterday morning as I was going to London to be taken out for lunch.

Trouble is, some birdbrain keeps putting brown breadcrumbs – or bread chunks more like – out for the wildlife, which they never touch, probably because it’s not pumpkin-seeded sourdough.

But the local dogs all treat this “magic hedge” like it’s a breakfast bar.

I was all dressed up, make-up and hair vaguely done, and had arranged to meet my friend Ali at the station. Before then, all I had to do was nip round the park for a quick run with Boris.

My loyal pug has never shown the slightest inclination to run away and happily trots off the lead. Except this bloody morning when I found myself walking one way down the path, only to look back and see his little bobbing bum in the distance, scampering off to the other side of the park.

I shouted, “Stay, Boris!” at the top of my voice several times, which he completely ignored, so I eventually had to run after the idiot.

But the magic hedge was too much of a pull, and I was wearing heels and couldn’t catch up. I looked like a giraffe trying to run across the grass as I tried not to sink my heels into the turf.

When I finally reached him and got him back on the lead, he’d already gobbled half a loaf. Last time he did that, it swelled up in his tummy and he looked very sorry for himself indeed.

By the time I got home, The Dark Lord had surfaced, probably because she knew I was in a tearing hurry, and wanted money. “I’ve got to be at the train station like now, and I’m late,” I cried, shoving half-cooked toast unceremoniously at her and warning her to look after the carb monster, and under no circumstances feed him until he’d fully digested his stolen bounty.

I legged it to the train station to meet Ali, who was having kittens by this point. She came over in a panic, just as the train pulled into the platform. “Oh thank goodness. Can’t you ever be anywhere on time? Do I have to come round and tie your big girl shoelaces for you?”

“Oh don’t start, I’ve had a very difficult morning,” I gasped, my make-up sliding off my hot, sweaty face. “Is it too early for gin?”

Email me at siobhan.mcnally@mirror.co.uk or write to Community Corner, PO Box 791, Winchester SO23 3RP.