Saturday, 21 February 2009

Barking Mad

I spoke to my mother today and she informs me that she's in the dog house for shredding the new tax disc.

Yes, that's right. She picked up the sheet of paper enclosing the brand new tax disc for the car and decided that the correct thing to do with it was insert it into the shredder and diminish it to 500 threads of worthless scrap paper suitable only as hamster bedding.

Well, it makes me feel slightly better about my failings - but perhaps this is what awaits me?

I don't really know when the madness that surrounds me started - it just seems to have always been there. I know I rolled off a kitchen worktop and broke my skull when I was a baby - maybe that started it? A portal into a parallel universe where all is not quite as it should be - life carries on in the way that many lives carry on but with surreal touches and strange interludes.

I think things took a turn for the worse when I was about 17 and took an overdose of dog hormone tablets. An accidental overdose I hasten to add. I might have been to the edges of my sanity over the last few years but I've never reached the point of turning to dog drugs. Yet.

It happened something like this.

On a Friday night we used to go out in the local town, blagging a lift and fake ID from my friend's older sister (well until I was sick in the back of her soft-top XR3i and tried to cover it up with a bottle of Exclamation! body spray but that's a whole different story) and then I would sleep at my friend's house for the night.

This friend had a dog and the dog had a problem. Well it had two problems. Firstly it kept humping everyone (and it was a female dog so shouldn't have been on top) and secondly it kept having phantom pregnancies. On one occasion it stole my pants from my weekend bag and tried to suckle them. Oh how everyone laughed (except for me - who was beyond mortified that my pants were being paraded through the family kitchen in front of my friend's dad and all his mates). Anyway, the dog was spayed but it still didn't stop pretending to give birth and breastfeed socks so it was put on a course of hormone tablets.

Around the same time I fell off a bollard I was attempting to leapfrog over and injured my shoulder - so I was on painkillers.

I came back to my friends house after a night supping Diamond White and Mad Dog 20/20 (shudder) and my shoulder was really throbbing so I took a good dose of my tablets and crashed out.....

Next morning I woke to hear my friend's mother demanding to know who exactly had had the dog's hormone tablets out of the cupboard and why were they all over the table and, actually, why were several day's worth missing?

Everybody looked at eachother.

Everybody turned and looked at me.

I turned around and looked for some body else who could have possibly mixed up their medication and taken several tablets intended for a hormonally disturbed dog....

There wasn't anybody else.

My friend's mum tutted and shook her head and told me that I really did need to be more careful before leaving the scene to hang out her washing.

Everybody else fell about laughing.

I felt vaguely sick but didn't know if that was the Mad Dog or the pills for the Mad Dog (boom boom). I toyed with the idea of seeking medical attention but really didn't fancy having that little episode recorded for all enternity on my medical notes - and besides, surely hormones are hormones? Whether they're for dogs or not?

Of course, everybody heard about it. For the next 6 months people kept coming up to me in pubs and asking me if I'd had puppies yet. Oh and telling me to write a book. Which they haven't stopped asking since.

I'm working on it. When I'm not breastfeeding socks....;).


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