I have just discovered that we are entering a hazardous time of the year.
Each day I walk our dog Barney in the local woodland, where every weekend I let him off his lead so that he can charge around like a mutt possessed and thoroughly enjoy himself in a dog kind of way.
Today was no exception, although I sensed a change in my surroundings. And then it hit me, literally. Smack on my old dream box. A rather large and very spiny sweet chestnut had at that exact moment decided to launch itself from it's lofty height and score a bullseye on me bonce.
Now for those of you who have never experienced a nut on yer nut, it bloody well hurts.
Why me?
What had I done to deserve this unprovoked attack from above?
Was it the squirrels using me as target practice 'cos I let Barney chase them?
Well I just rubbed my throbbing pate and moved on. Until that is, another prickly missile grazed my left lug'ole. Now I am starting to get paranoid. The chances of twice being struck by a suicidal chestnut must be fairly long. Maybe the woodland spirits are angry with me for allowing Barney to piss up every tree in the wood? Who knows? Tomorrow when I venture into their domain I will pay homage and leave them a little gift. Maybe a nice turd from Barney.
They'd like that, surely?
3 comments:
It might have been worse -- it could have been a Canadian Goose. (Fourth snippet down.)
Sir should always wear a proper hat when out walking, something traditional to piss off the lower classes.
I think a crash helmet would suffice.
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