Hi my name is Simon; actually it’s really Simonides Grantchester Alphonso the Third. My pedigree name you see. I guess he uses Simon because he thinks it less pretentious.

Anyway here we are again in the field at the end of our block on my morning run. He’s got one of those plastic arm extensions which throw the ball further; also it’s less sloppy for his hands. It’s a bit cloudy today and not too cold and he’s throwing the ball fairly regularly so I’m getting plenty of exercise. It’s a great feeling careering through the long grass after the ball, but only to a certain extent. After a while I get knackered and sometimes he doesn’t notice so off I have to go again barking my protest. Eventually, he gets the message and he sits on the bench.

So he’s sat there looking at his bloody phone and I’m crashed out slobbering and panting when this tall blond woman comes along with this long haired lanky looking creature and asks if it’s ok to share the bench. “No problem, please sit,” he says. I turn my attention to the creature and hear the women say “my, that’s a beautiful dog you have there, is it a Shih Tzu, what’s his name?” He replies, “Yes it is a Shih Tzu and we call him Simon”

Oh for goodness sake why doesn’t he call me Alphonso it’s definitely cooler than bloody Simon – who calls a dog Simon for Christ sake?

“That’s a Afghan isn’t it, she’s magnificent,” says he. I already knew that having just smelt her bum. “Yes, her name is’ Esmeralda Dolores Tinkerbell the Second’ but I call her Essy for short,” says she.

Here we go again… I gazed into Essy’s gorgeous eyes and could feel the old familiar stirring. She was rather tall but, hey, I like a challenge.

Then would you believe it, suddenly the heavens open and a downpour starts, which prompted them to say their goodbyes and head for home… frustrations are a way of life for me.

Luckily it wasn’t too far to our door and we managed to get in before it really came down. After being unleashed I made my way to the kitchen for a drink. I noticed his mate was home washing up dishes and his pups were out for the day “Hello Simmy had a good walk?” she says.  For goodness sake, I give up!

In the grand scheme of things names may not mean that much to you, but to an aristocrat like me and amongst the dog fraternity it means a lot to be disassociated from all those Fido’s and Rex’s. Anyway, I was glad to be back in the warm, so I sauntered into the front room and crashed out on the carpet.

A little later his friend came over after his mate went off shopping. They settled down in front of the magic box opened some cans and watched my favourite programme, football. I love watching all those humans running around in a field after a ball.  Can’t see the point of it myself, but great fun and they seem to enjoy it. By the time it finished I was fast asleep.

To be continued…


About the AuthorRoger Spettigue is a retired social worker, whose interests include creative writing, history, art, real ale and travel. He lives in Tavistock with his partner.

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