Day 1

These are the voyages of the Star Ship Enterprise…..

Actually it’s my first attempt at writing something interesting that will appeal to everyone or no one. I’m doing it because my wife told me to….well she suggested I should do it, which is really the same thing. If you become a dedicated follower of my fashion, it’s important that you know that her name is Alison. That will allow me to talk about “Alison”, without constantly also calling her “my wife”.

We, along with our two children, have been living in Eastbourne for about sixteen months, having previously been close to Bath for many moons. Eastbourne and Bath have virtually nothing in common. Bath, in my very humble estimation, is the most beautiful city in England. Eastbourne isn’t. (A city that is!). Nor is it beautiful in the way that Bath is. Our move here brought insanely witty comments from “friends” about how I would lower the average age of the Town by at least a year or two. I should confess at this point that I am an incredibly youthful (if not useful) sixty seven years old. It’s true that Eastbourne does have a higher than average geriatric population….it’s a wonderful place to retire to….but it’s also a youthful community that is rapidly rediscovering it’s former Victorian and Edwardian glory. Alison (my wife), is not yet fifty and my two children are barely teenagers, so our move here has in fact lowered the average age quite considerably. The themes of Bath and Eastbourne will no doubt feature on a regular basis in my future witty mental meanderings, but for now I want to tell you a story…..

Once upon a time, there lived an incredibly handsome and well-bred miniature poodle called Hermann. Whilst not exactly Aryan, Hermann certainly possessed a Kaiser-like poise and bearing that was widely admired and respected around the neighbourhood. Next door to Hermann lived an equally beautiful and aristocratic collie by the name of Bethsheba. With her long, gleaming locks and healthily wet nose Bethsheba cut quite a dash. All the boys on the street took a shine to Beth, but, for the most part, she remained irritatingly aloof. Hermann grew up in a house with no mirrors. In fact it had no reflective surfaces whatsoever. He, therefore, had no concept of the physical differences between himself and the voluptuous collie. They quickly indulged in social interaction, that soon evolved into social intercourse. One day Hermann detected that Beth was experiencing that stage that women go through that arouses boys’ interest. Hermann was intent on turning “social” into “sexual” but realised the height difference might be an issue. No doubt with the help of a passing stool or perhaps a downed tree it didn’t remain an obstacle for long and the seed of a future generation was sown. A few months later (not being a breeder, my knowledge of canine confinement is somewhat sketchy) a brood of coddles was introduced to polite society. One of these less-than-pure-bred mutants went to a good home where he was christened Matthew. Matt the Mutt quickly discovered the lie of the land and became known as a bit of a lad amongst his peers. He certainly wasn’t averse to the doggie equivalent of a one night stand or three, but from an early age he’d had his eye on a gorgeous, pure-bred whippet who lived on the nearby farm. Matt too grew up in a house with no mirrors, but it was a liberal establishment where inter-racial relationships were positively encouraged. Matt, a wire haired mish-mash of colours and features was not exactly Daniel Craig in appearance, but he loved to think of himself as a latter day Bond….James Bond. Curiously, his hirsute hunkiness seemed to work with the elegant upper crust and one day Matt finally had his wicked way with Lady Fenella the farmer’s whippet.

A few months later…..Fen gave birth to twelve bonnie, bouncing pups who wouldn’t have looked out of place in a liquorice all sorts bag. No two were the same, with blacks and whites and tans and combinations thereof, smooth-haired and wiry ones, some with short legs and some with long.

For more than a year prior to this happy occasion, my two children and Alison (my wife) had been growing ever more persistent in the need for a puppy. Having had labradors in a previous life I knew the commitment required and resisted, until resistance became futile. Held in a Vulcan death grip I was dragged along to examine this “sweet” collection of distinctly non-pedigree, but nonetheless expensive, chums. Only one little darling remained unclaimed and yet curiously the genuinely cute little smooth-haired tan number is the one we would have chosen anyway.

This was over a year ago and the sweet little midget has developed into a high class and nimble athlete who shows glimpses of every aspect of her heritage. She’s much smaller than a standard whippet, but has incredible acceleration and a top speed to make Usain Bolt jealous. She can round up sheep like a contestant in One Man and his Dog, kill rabbits and rats faster than you can say Jeremy Corbyn (should you want to) and still draw admiring comments from her two-legged friends. All, that is, except skateboarders whose ankles she obviously thinks are rats. So far she’s only actually maimed one, but it’s only a matter of time……….

Note to wife: Please train Callie, the whippet, collie, mini poodle mix, to realise that skateboarders are in fact human (aren’t they?) and should not be chased and molested.

Callie is even now champing at her imaginary bit…..time for “walkies”. Needless to say the youth who were so adamant that we couldn’t survive without a dog, never actually WALK the “oh isn’t she so sweet” one, or take responsibility of any kind for her.

So, it’s her reluctant “father” who must promenade along the Prom, a mere three hundred metres as the gull flies from our front door, whilst Callie terrorises the local gull population, romping along the shingle beach, leaping from ten foot high breakwaters and chasing anything that moves like a leopard running down an impala.

Elements of this fairy tale may blur the border between fact and fiction, but Callie and her antics are very much fact! To be continued……