I wrapped up in my scarf, coat and hat, and braved the wilds of the Oxfordshire countryside. I was traipsing through a remote and water-sodden field about a mile outside my village, when I spotted a stranger in the distance walking towards me. As she got closer, Naughty George also spotted her and ran towards her at full pelt, before jumping up and causing her to reel backwards.
"Aw, shit," I thought to myself, running towards the stranger in order to try and put NG on his leash.
When I reached her, she was standing stock-still with her arms in the air, staring wearily at Naughty George who was at her feet, gazing into the distance and barking vacuously. For chrissake, he looked like he was boring himself.
"Is that Naughty George?" The strange lady asked, pointing at my little black mutt.
Oh my god. She knew my dog's name. "Yes, that's Naughty George," I replied suspiciously (for all I know she could be a dog stalker).
"Thought so," she said, "I've heard about him."
"Have you?" I asked with surprise. And then I was thinking, 'bloody hell, a stranger knows all about my dog'. And something told me that it wasn't a good thing. Especially after seeing the expression on her face.
I decided to make a sharp exit. I clipped the leash onto his collar and dragged him away; "Come on Naughty George, time to go!" I shouted cheerily (it was a weedy attempt to diffuse any potential situation).
We ran off into the distance with me shouting "Byeeeee" to the random lady, and waving manically behind me.
Once I arrived back home, I pondered the situation, and there was only one conclusion; Naughty George really had gained a 'bad rep' in my home village of Forest Hill.
I decided to give him a stern talking to.
Pic.No.1 I awoke him from his slumbers and he seemed a bit surprised. But I got straight down to business........
Pic.No.2 "Naughty George, you've got yourself a bad rep," I explained to him in a firm fashion. At first I thought I was getting through to him, but then .........................
Pic.No.3 He decided that rearranging his fleas was more interesting than receiving a bollocking. The git. (P.S. Look, he is scratching so fast that his back leg is a blur)
If getting a bad rep in the village wasn't bad enough. My dear daughter Izzy today informed me that she didn't like staying in our house 'because Naughty George stinks'.
So, as well as intimidating random villagers, Naughty George had also prompted my five-year-old daughter into asking if she could move out of home.
Now then, do you have any problematic pets?
P.S. I must admit that Naughty George does stink. He is lying in his basket next to me and I can barely see him for the fug cloud that is surrounding him. Maybe it is time for a bath, because he hasn't had one for a couple of years.