Soft Dogs With Hard Names

This week has been filled with dog incidents that have made me smile, all have involved dogs that just don’t match up to their names. Dog 1. The first was a dog I saw tethered outside that famous retail freezer outlet, once championed by Ms Katona. It was a lanky thing and was whimpering for its owner, who emerged with a carrier bag full of frozen goodies. The owner was dressed in a tracksuit and had tattoos on his neck, so was really classy. He put the shopping down as the dog jumped up excited to be reunited with its owner. The boy shouted at it to stop, but it just kept trying to lick his face. “Storm, stop it.” he said. ‘Storm,’ I sniggered to myself, this dog was obviously named as a pup and grew up to be a mere breeze. I switch on my Ipod and head off into town, smiling as Pete Doherty sings ‘Sweet By And By’.

Now at the moment I’m in the middle of a DVD buying frenzy. I’ve never really been the sort of person to invest much time in a television series, so am not an avid collector of boxed sets. However I stumbled across the American show, Supernatural again a few days ago, and having seen season 1 for sale in Tesco for a meagre £12 I took up the option to purchase it. 4 episodes later I'm out getting season 2. We’re also buying lots of films for when we move to Italy, so we have some English speaking TV sorted out until we get SKY sorted out over there.

I was up town, browsing for DVD’s when I came across Dog 2. Now dog 2 was a gorgeous white Staffordshire bull terrier, being Staffordshire born and bred, we all know these breeds are known for being very gentle dogs. This one is with a skinny lad again with a tattoo on his neck. The lad is chatting to a young lady, who really doesn’t suit the plum colour she has in her hair. The dog is loose and running happily to passers by, eager for a fuss. The lad tries to control the dog, but she’s far too excited by the attention she’s getting. He calls her, Blitz, is her name. It hardly suits her. She runs over to him and jumps up and grabs the end of his belt with her teeth, and in an instant, his jeans are around his ankles and passers by are laughing, and Blitz is wagging her tail.

Mid week I nipped to Crewe to purchase an item for a friend over in Italy, nothing unusual in that. However I’m driving along with iPod playing ‘Mr Blue’ by Yazoo, from the recently released Reconnected Live album. I look up at my rear view mirror and the driver of the car behind me is wearing a Halloween mask, it’s a white pumpkin head one, and is a little bit disconcerting.

It’s whilst in Crewe that I spot Dog 3. This one’s a hefty looking Rottweiler, it’s on a lead and doesn’t want to walk, it’s being stubborn and just sits there as a tiny girl pulls at it. She’s obviously losing patience as her voice is quickly rising from a stern command to a shriek. “Come on,” she says tugging at the lead. The dog goes from sitting to rolling over, tongue lolling out of its mouth and what’s left of its tail wagging. And I kid you not, the dogs name was Diablo. I drive home with Keith Urban singing, ‘You’ll Think Of Me’.

This week has been rather uneventful to be honest, maybe because I’ve spent much of it labouring over an article for the journalism course I’m doing. I have to write a 800 word piece and have chosen to write about Fara San Martino, a small town in Abruzzo where pasta is made. It’s a lovely little town nestled at the foot of the Majella mountains. Some people think the two huge pasta factories spoil the area, but I think that in an area where there is very little employment, these factories provide an income and stability for the people of the Chieti region.

While driving home I had to stop and wait as a car with 2 huge yellow and red stickers emblazoned across it was winched onto a pick up truck. The stickers that covered the rear window and side door read, ‘No Insurance, No Car. ’ Now I agree with this principle, even to the point of having no sympathy for the man on the pavement watching his car being taken away. What I didn’t agree with in this situation was the fact that for 1 car, and 1 driver there were five police cars. 10 police officers were involved, what a waste of public money and resources. I felt like voicing my opinion, however Editors began to play ‘You Don’t Know Love’ from their superb third album, ‘In This Light and on This Evening.’ So as I was waved on by a chubby policeman, I sang along with Tom Smith and went home.

Saturday evening was spent with good food and better company. We are eating at a local public hostelry, called the Horn and Trumpet, or as I refer to it, the horny strumpet. I am with my ex-wife and her kids, people may think it’s odd but we still get on on really well, and socialise as often as possible. After dinner and a few games on the Wii, of which I am hopeless on, as my hand eye co-ordination is rubbish, I come home in time for the Piers Morgan interview on TV with Cheryl Cole. Now I know Ms Cole has had a bad time of it lately, what with her marriage breakdown and malaria, so I’m expecting tears. She’s very gracious and candid about her ex-husbands infidelity, and I applaud her for this, I just don’t like the fact that you can tell all the answers have been rehearsed in advance, and the final statement by Cheryl was so obviously written by a PR guru.

Sunday is spent ironing shirts, this most mundane of jobs can only be made bearable with my iPod shuffling away in the corner. I start the job at 11.20, with Soft Cell playing, ‘Say Hello, Wave Goodbye’ and at 16.05, with Ash playing ‘Candy’ , with it’s soaring sample from ‘Make It easy On Yourself’ from their ‘Free All Angels’ album, I slide the coat hanger beneath the shoulders of the final pristine, crisp and crease free shirt. Time for an episode of Supernatural methinks.