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A Walk of No Consequence
When disaster is averted by a dog whisker
There’s always something to grab you by the lapels when you least suspect it. Life’s forehead comes to greet the bridge of your nose with a red spume of crunchy finality. Are you awake yet?
And so it was this bright cold morning. We were out walking the two dogs, the same as every morning. Only the start of the tow path where the two rivers meet, the Kennet and the Thames, by Horse Shoe bridge, is blocked — closed for repairs. So we take the long way round. Battling the unforgiving traffic, along a manic road that heads for the motorway, skimming the roundabouts and meeting the rural solace of the Thames further up.
We’d had our walk, Milo running free across fields, Moth staying close to me while she heals her limp, and were heading home. We were at the heavy road part. The pavement gets narrow and the road becomes busier. But we’re two minutes away from home.
Above the roar of the traffic, something made me turn round. Laura had suddenly fallen. Looked like she had tripped. She sat in a puddle of limp clothes and dog bags, looking vaguely stunned. Ever the opportunist, Milo broke away, pushing past me and Moth, his lead dragging behind.
It was typical Milo. He wasn’t trying to runaway. He just seized a moment to have some fun…
