Priceless support of first class team
AN ALTERNATIVE LOOK AT LIFE IN MACC
LIFE is a wondrous thing don’t you think? I imagined at this time in my life I would be gently rocking in a hammock suspended between two palm trees on some Caribbean Island...instead I find myself in Gawsworth pandering to a one-eyed dog who thinks he’s a movie star.
I was wandering across West Park a few weeks ago when a lady walked over and said, “You are that man who writes in the Macc Express aren’t you?”
I was quite touched, “Have we met before,” I asked.
“Oh…I wouldn’t know you from Adam but I do recognise your dog.”
Cobra winked his one good eye and lay down at her feet. I thought my life would be so much more than this. I had visions of writing a New York Times best seller.
I did publish a book, for which I solicited positive comments for the cover.
Instead, I got: “I couldn’t put it down…it wouldn’t flush” and “I have a soft spot for Vic Barlow…it’s a swamp,” and: “It’s a thumping good read. Well, it will be when we catch him.”
People can be cruel.
I was at a funeral a few of years back and bumped into Councillor Ainsley Arnold - then head of CEC planning.
“Will you come to my funeral when I die?” I asked him.
“The entire council will come.”
“I never knew cared”, I replied.
“They don’t but they’ll want to make sure you are dead.”
Not the greatest of compliments, but at least it was funny.
Back in 2002 I started a dog training class and thought it might lead to a TV show. What it’s actually led to is a wonderful collection of the nicest people you are ever likely to meet helping me out at every class.
No amount of money very they could give me the joy and support they give me.
Now…if I could only attract ladies like Cobra my life would have surpassed all expectations.
(Sorry I need to go and groom Cobra for his next Public Appearance).
Oh yeah, just remembered…when I had my book out in the shops two ladies approached me in Chestergate telling me how much they enjoyed my ‘work.’ They invited me to join them at a nearby table for coffee and cake, and never stopped talking about their mother who was apparently my biggest fan.
They asked if they could take a photograph of us together to show ‘Mother.’
I did so gladly and they left to catch their bus… leaving me to pay the bill.
“Thank you so much, Terry,” they called as they disappeared onto Churchill Way. I often wonder who ‘Terry’ was or if I had just been scammed by two maiden aunts.