Music Played12 items
Dire Straits Lady Writer
Sultans Of Swing - Best Of Dire Straits, Vertigo
Matisyahu One Day
(CD Single), 100%, 1
The Beach Boys Lady Lynda
(CD Single), Capitol
Brandon Flowers Crossfire
(CD Single), Polydor, 1
Cee Lo Green Wildflower
The Lady Killer, Warner Bros, 4
The Beatles Lady Madonna
The Beatles - 1, Apple, 5
The Stranglers Duchess
Stevie Wonder Sir Duke
Stevie Wonder - Song Review, Motown
Caro Emerald A Night Like This
(CD Single), Dramatico, 1
Lindisfarne Lady Eleanor
Lidisfarne On Tap, Essential
Deep Purple Black Night
The Greatest Hits Of 1970 (Various), Premier
Jethro Tull Living In The Past
The First Summer Of Love - The Sixtie, Polygram Tv
Confession: Pet Rescue
Hello Father Simon and your confessions' collective.
Please hear my confession and relieve me of a burden I've carried with me many years. This all happened as I was walking through a certain city centre from the railway station to my place of work. It's relevant to note that it was a very very cold November morning and quite early so there were few people about. As I made my way along a quiet back street, something on the pavement caught my eye. I stopped and stooped over to see what it was. Looking back up at me was a small furry creature. It had puffed up its fur in an apparent attempt to shut out the cold, you know, like what you see on those nature shows on the telly, and twitched its little whiskers in a pathetic but not unattractive way. It looked very sweet indeed.
By this time, a lady had approached me from the opposite direction, stopped and followed my downward gaze. This lady appeared quite well-to-do, dressed in a beautiful wool coat, patent leather court shoes and had tied her scarf in a complicated way like the French do. To summarize, she was quite posh. Looking intrigued, and clearly amazed at its utter cuddly sweetness, she asked me "What's that?”. Now Simon, bearing in mind that I have no knowledge or expertise in natural history, to this day, I have no idea why I said, confidently, "Oh, its a chinchilla. Must be a child's escaped pet".
Not being a residential area, we were both puzzled how this family pet could have found its way onto a city street. "It'll freeze to death out out here, poor thing", she said. "What should we do"? She went on, "We can't leave it here. We need to take it to a vet or the RSPCA or something". Now, not being a particular animal lover I normally would have just walked on and gone into work. But I was taken by her compassion and her need to do something. By this time, she had picked up the sweet "chinchilla" and was nursing it in her arms like a little baby. It seemed to be perking up from the warmth of her coat, and had started playfully to run up and down her arms. Oh how she loved the little creature, as she began to pet it, stroking it, talking to it in a way that prous parents talk to their babies, and even kissing it on its furry little head. She was enraptured, as I just stood there, looking on.
Parked near by was a council maintenance truck and in the back was an empty bucket that could have had paint or plaster in it. A plan was forming in my mind that this could be a way of transporting the creature to safety. I tapped on the window to attract the workman’s attention. Now it appears that the workman had been observing our actions throughout and jumped straight out of his seat in what I thought was a commendable eagerness to assist. Perhaps he too could appreciate the lovely little animal.
The posh woman was fully occupied keeping control of the fully revived and warm "chinchilla", which was now attempting to climb inside the top of her coat. They were really bonding. She had a look of sheer joy on her face. The workman fixed his eyes on the creature, which was now comfortably nesting in her arms, and gruffly said "I can't believe you've picked that up". "Ahh, whyever not"? said the women defensively, tickling the little fellow on the chin playfully (the chinchilla, not the council worker I hasten to add). "Because it's a sewer rat". . .he said. Now, I don't know which left the woman the fastest, either the rodent formally known as the "chinchilla" as she dropped it to the ground, or the blood as it drained from her face.
At this point I decided to make my move and mumbled something about being late for work. As I turned to make a hasty retreat, she looked at me in sheer disappointment, and said sadly, with tears welling up in her eyes, "But you told me it was a chinchilla". Words that still haunt me.
I still think about that lovely kind hearted lady and hope she didn't contract some evil disease from cuddling something that had earlier probably been swimming in, and no doubt eating, something unpleasant. Furthermore, regardless of her learning the true identity of our little friend, as I looked back, she was defending the rat from the workman who was running around it with his shovel. God bless her.
Looking forward to hearing your saintly wisdom.