NO WALK

My hamster can do better than that, John!
It was a wheelie good walk !

"This will get the mileage up! GPS foiled again!"
"9,997 - 9,998 - 9,999 - 10,000! That's it. I can go home now!"

(email your caption to agdonlan30@gmail.com)

NO WALK !

This week SEVEN of our meanderthals will be holidaying together in Scotland.  LARGS to be precise.  "Where's that ?"  I hear you ask..... Exactly !

As there will be no walk,  neither will there be a report so I thought I might tell about an incident that happened some years ago in the early days of our Meanderthal wanderings. 

We had parked the car next to a large wood  through which we would start our walk. The wood was large and overgrown with some ancient and magnificent trees. It took us a while to get through it. Once clear of the wood we crossed a couple of fields before joining a track leading towards a farm. 

As we arrived at the farm and where about to go through the gate a voice called out ..

"Don't come through just yet I'm trying to catch this beggar." 

In the yard was red-faced farmer wielding a large net on a pole. On the other side of the yard was a large and rather handsome cockerel which was keeping well clear of
the farmer and his net. Whenever the farmer moved so did the cockerel. 

"Can we give you a hand ?" asked Danny.

"Aye. If you come into the yard we can try and surround it." 

Once through the gate and spreading out to trap the cockerel the farmer explained that a fox had been visiting the chicken run and he had to make sure all the birds were securely fastened in their cabins.  

"Yon mon," he said pointing at the cockerel, "insists on perching outside. I'm gonna catch it now while I have time and shut it in."

We surrounded the cockerel and were moving slowly in for the catch when the wily bird shot between John's legs and disappeared round the end of the barn. We dashed after it only to see it squeezing under a five-barred gate and strutting off into a small field. 

A very determined Peter ran after it, vaulting over the gate (we were younger then) and seeing the cockerel disappearing under a bush some twenty yards past the barn, cautiously tiptoed after it..

The farmer shouted something but we were too busy watching Peter to hear him properly.  The cockerel seemed to think it was safely out of view and allowed Peter to creep nearer and nearer. Then, with a flying dive Peter leaped into the bush grabbing the cockerel by the legs. With a loud squawking and a flurry of feathers Peter pulled the bird from the bush and turned to show us his trophy. 

The smile that wreathed his face quickly disappeared as he saw, between him and the gate a large black BULL.

"I tried to tell you." said the farmer.

The bull, a large Aberdeen Angus, with a head and muscular shoulders the size of a small car, snorted and pawed the ground sending clods of earth and grass high into the air behind it. Then with a menacing bellow it charged towards Peter with obvious evil intent. To the watchers behind the gate everything seemed to go into slow mtion as Peter momentarily froze and then, in an effort to get past the bull and reach the safety of the gate, stepped sideways and began running towards us. The bull roared again and then with surprising agility for such a monster spun round and charged after Peter.   Peter was only yards from the gate when the bull caught him up.

"Look out !" we all shouted. 

Peter dodged to one side but the bull swung it's massive head catching him on the shoulder and flinging him through the air and against the stone wall of the barn. He slumped to the ground and lay in a heap without moving. 

The bull planted its feet firmly but still slid forward in the muddy gateway hitting the gate with a loud crash and splintering the top bar into pieces. It stood still for a moment and then cast it's bright, beady eyes around.  Peter was lying absolutely still and the only thing that was moving was the cockerel which Peter had been carrying. The Bull saw it and charged after it.  

Immediately we rushed through the gate to where Peter was lying. He was moaning gently and there was blood on the side of his head. We quickly carried him round into the yard  and across to the farm house. He was beginning to come round but was too shocked to be able to say much. The farmer's wife had very sensibly dialled "999" when she had heard the commotion and it was only a few minutes before an ambulance pulled into the yard. 

Very shocked and subdued we ended our walk. The farmer kindly offered to drive us back to where our car was parked.

Once home we rang the hospital to be told the Peter was doing well but had sustained  a badly broken leg, two broken ribs and a large wound to his shoulder where the bulls stumpy horns had caught him.  It would be some months before he would be fit to walk again. In fact Peter never walked with us again as he was left with a pronounced limp which made anything but a short walk difficult and uncomfortable.

The discerning reader

will

have realised

that this 

tale

is a 

fabrication.

There is

not an

iota 

of truth

in it

it is

in fact

all

lies

a real

COCK and BULL STORY !