Flossie and I went to stay with my parents in Oxfordshire over the Easter break. We enjoyed the balmy weather and some lovely walks along the river. We even made friends with the neighbours who seemed very taken with Flossie. I didn’t mention our last visit when she ran around the house with muddy paws.
Not all the locals were so friendly.
On our final morning we woke to pouring rain. I hadn’t brought waterproof clothing so I borrowed my mum’s jacket. Flossie and I set out for a swift walk, not wanting to linger too long in the monsoon conditions.
Despite the rain, we enjoyed ambling around the town before most people were out and about. As we walked along a wide tree-lined road, Flossie paused to do her business. As usual, she took her time to find exactly the right position while I waited patiently, poo bag at the ready.
Just as she was at the point of no return, a large van swept past, slapping through a giant puddle and engulfing me from head to foot in what seemed like a tidal wave of water. The whole of the back of me was soaked, including my mother’s pristine-looking jacket.
I uttered some choice words under my breath. I noticed the van turn around and start to travel back towards me, on the other side of the road this time. I thought perhaps the driver was going to apologise. He carried on regardless.
I glared at him. I’m sure he was oblivious to what had happened as I stood there dripping and muttering expletives.
We trudged on for a while and then returned to my parents’ house. It took some time to dry off. I hung the jacket gingerly on the front door handle. It wasn’t fit to bring into the house.
It’s not the first time this has happened and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
We’d had a lovely break and I’m not one to let a splash of water trouble me.
As published in the Bath Chronicle, 27 April 2023
Suzy Pope is a certified copywriter and newspaper columnist specialising in pets, business and lifestyle. If you would like help with a writing project, please get in touch.
