Pathetic Fallacy, is it one?
Today it was my task to feed my mother's cat. She lives on the edge of Dartmoor so I took the hounds with me, to walk them en route.
Arrived at edge of moor, turfed out hounds from car into brilliant sunshine. Hounds bound merrily about over soft green grass in search of invisible rabbits. Small streams sparkle and tinkle. Light glints attractively off beech trees in a hedge. We find a gorse bush with an amazing twisted stem sitting in a pool, apparently designed by Roger Garland. Regret having not brought camera.
We walk for about half an hour and return to car. Hand in pocket for keys. Keys? NO keys?? NO KEYS!!!!
Clouds roll across the sky. It begins to rain. I set off to retrace our steps and search the ground, thinking I must have dropped keys when fishing bag of dog treats out of pocket. Giant, menacing black clouds are rolling down from Brent Tor. Still no keys. Walk seems considerably longer this time for some reason. It's suddenly very cold.
Pause from fruitless hunt for keys to swear loudly and at length. Realise that hounds are staring at me with huge frightened doe-like eyes. Stop swearing and reassure hounds that swearing does not in any way relate to them.
At least I have remembered to bring my mobile phone, and for a wonder the battery is charged as well. I could phone philmophlegm and have him come from Plymouth via house to bring new keys. Only he did mention he had a bunch of Important Meetings And Stuff today. He's not going to be keen on this idea. Hum.
I remember that I still have key to my mother's house, which is within walking distance. Will not have to starve and drown on moor until philmophlegm can bring new keys. (Rain stops, presumably feeling it has been robbed of a victim.)
I remember that when driving past my mother's house on the way here, I noticed she had left her car when she went away. Surely car must have a spare set of keys somewhere in house? All cars come with spare keys don't they?
Brief pause while I consider prospect of hotwiring my mother's car, but reluctantly reject this idea as probably harder than it looks on telly. Also consider issue of uninsured driving, and how likely it is that disaster will strike and I will have to explain why I stole and wrecked her car. Still, searching house for spare keys has to be worth a try. With her car, i could drive home and get spare keys for MY car!
Clouds are thinning, air is warmer again. Hounds resume happy bounding activity. We return to the car. And there, right by the door, and I swear, illuminated by a sunbeam, were MY KEYS!!!
I love you, Keys. Let us never be parted again.
Arrived at edge of moor, turfed out hounds from car into brilliant sunshine. Hounds bound merrily about over soft green grass in search of invisible rabbits. Small streams sparkle and tinkle. Light glints attractively off beech trees in a hedge. We find a gorse bush with an amazing twisted stem sitting in a pool, apparently designed by Roger Garland. Regret having not brought camera.
We walk for about half an hour and return to car. Hand in pocket for keys. Keys? NO keys?? NO KEYS!!!!
Clouds roll across the sky. It begins to rain. I set off to retrace our steps and search the ground, thinking I must have dropped keys when fishing bag of dog treats out of pocket. Giant, menacing black clouds are rolling down from Brent Tor. Still no keys. Walk seems considerably longer this time for some reason. It's suddenly very cold.
Pause from fruitless hunt for keys to swear loudly and at length. Realise that hounds are staring at me with huge frightened doe-like eyes. Stop swearing and reassure hounds that swearing does not in any way relate to them.
At least I have remembered to bring my mobile phone, and for a wonder the battery is charged as well. I could phone philmophlegm and have him come from Plymouth via house to bring new keys. Only he did mention he had a bunch of Important Meetings And Stuff today. He's not going to be keen on this idea. Hum.
I remember that I still have key to my mother's house, which is within walking distance. Will not have to starve and drown on moor until philmophlegm can bring new keys. (Rain stops, presumably feeling it has been robbed of a victim.)
I remember that when driving past my mother's house on the way here, I noticed she had left her car when she went away. Surely car must have a spare set of keys somewhere in house? All cars come with spare keys don't they?
Brief pause while I consider prospect of hotwiring my mother's car, but reluctantly reject this idea as probably harder than it looks on telly. Also consider issue of uninsured driving, and how likely it is that disaster will strike and I will have to explain why I stole and wrecked her car. Still, searching house for spare keys has to be worth a try. With her car, i could drive home and get spare keys for MY car!
Clouds are thinning, air is warmer again. Hounds resume happy bounding activity. We return to the car. And there, right by the door, and I swear, illuminated by a sunbeam, were MY KEYS!!!
I love you, Keys. Let us never be parted again.