Gibson and Ty at work

Last year I found myself in Nottingham with my guide dog Gibson.

It was going to be a challenge but I was not going to pass up the chance to go and explore the sea of light and noise that greeted me as we passed the Recreation Ground.

At that time Gibson and I were a new partnership so I approached the crowded site with some care. I should not have worried. Guide Dogs had done a good job, this dog is a party animal.

We plunged into the throng. It was a real crush but the crowd gave the dog all the room he needed as we slowly moved past the knots of people buying things at the stalls.

Gibson was being extremely good and I did not have to remind him once that just because it was on the floor it was not his to eat.

One smell stopped me in my tracks and my wallet let out an involuntary groan - I had found fudge. Time passed and my pockets filled. In my defence I did make it last four days… Honestly…

Ty and Gibson walking

We wandered along swept on by the crowd until we ground to a halt. We found ourselves in the middle of a large group of friends engaged in a raging debate about which rides to go on.

Some of the more relaxed ones began to chat to Gibson and myself. When the group set off we found ourselves adopted.

This proved most fortuitous. I had time to talk to a dog owner who understood the need to not feed a dog unsuitable titbits and another who was determined to get me onto some of the more ‘interesting’ rides.

The dodgems were fun. Firstly I was a passenger with a driver insistent on killing both of us. To prove he was totally insane we then swapped and he directed the carnage whilst I twirled the wheel. A smashing time was enjoyed by all.

All the fun of the fair

We went on a few others but the bungee contraption was the most fun. Strapped into a ball between two elastic bands… There must be less stomach churning ways to enjoy an evening, but the grin factor was huge.

I thanked Gibsons’ dog sitter by giving her some of my fudge and we made our slow way out of the ground. The impression that remains strongest a year on was the sense of joy that affected both young and old alike.

A Cheshire Cat would have not been ashamed of the grin on my face as I turned onto the road. The only thing now needed was a time to reflect and where better than at a local pub where Gibson and myself could slate our thirst. Batemans XXXB hit the spot for me but only water for Gibson, he was driving!