Impatience and my own desire to achieve 'closure' on the Valentine's chicken saga got the better of me today. (you will have to read previous 2 blog entries to see where I'm coming from.)
I had done a bit of detective work around the village, and now had a good idea who the dog's owners were and where they lived. Around 12.00 midday, I jumped into the car, and went round - a moment later and I'd have been too late. As it was, I met lady's husband just driving off, with dog, and he knew who I was straightaway (the wellies and green John Deere overalls might have given the game away.)
He apologised on his wife's behalf, who was out, saying they had been expecting me to go round. As I did not know the names of these people, or where they lived, I don't know how they thought I was going to manage this, but anyway, I had. I requested payment for replacement and politely pointed out that it was more than 'just a chicken' etc etc.
I said my piece, made my peace..and left.
Closure, lunch and an afternoon out with the children.
Later on, I'm in the kitchen, cooking steak and chips, when there's a knock at the door, and a very apologetic lady is standing awkwardly at the door, with a bouquet of flowers.
It is she, owner of the Valentine's chicken slayer, in person.
It must have been difficult for her to come round, but there she was. I had made her feel bad - bringing flowers made her feel better - and now I've received the flowers, I'm feeling really bad.
It was, after all, just a chicken....?
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