It was such a good idea. An early start to do some organic vegetable shopping at a local market, spot of lunch at the Curious Cafe in Cheltenhan, then a walk in the sunshine (yes, sunshine...) on top of Clickleigh Hill.
Coco was ecstatic at the thought and we located an enormous tree trunk of a stick for him to carry proudly ahead. The views across Gloucestershire and the Malverns beyond are particularly spectacular from up here. I know just how many acres will be destroyed in Red House, just by sweeping my vision from right to left. But that's another story.
Coco's pedigree name is Hercules of Devil's Chapel. That should have been a clue, although to be fair, the maiming was not his fault.
I thought I'd throw the stick down into the quarry below us. He loves the quest and the chase and the challenge. I gave a mighty swing of the stick and felt a searing pain above my right eye, quickly followed by a gush of blood. The pinz nes were intact, but I fell to the grass. I'd forgotten that I was holding Coco's lead, a rope thing with a heavy metal attachment. It sliced me neatly above the eye.
Once I could stand shakily, I stood on the grassy edge above the quarry. Coco's stick was over a meter wide and as he rushed past to hurtle down into the quarry, the stick caught the back of my legs and I almost went.
So there I am, bloody eye, dead-legged from behind, an obituary on my mind...
I have such a sympathetic wife...
So, fodder for the book, a tale to tell...a murder scenario of sorts.
The Crickleigh Hill Catastrophe in brief...
Stop snickering at the back!
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