The copper and the weirdo

Written by Ben Tallon

Lunchtime. Running after the dog again, slapstick style. The middle of the three green spaces that comprise our walk sits right next to the local police station, so throughout the day, theirs a steady stream of coppers smoking fags, drinking coffee outside, or just milling around before or after going out to catch robbers. Today I don’t see the officer who is smoking behind the bushes where I gallop with the tennis ball. I nod, mumble hello, notice she is thrown by my sudden presence, so I turn to make plainly obvious that I am a dog walker, and I am with my dog. ‘WAAAALLLLLTTTTEEERRRR! COME ON! GOOD BOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYY!’ I bellow as he shows up, also thrown by my over exuberant cry for backup. The officer now smiles, visibly relieved. At least that’s how I read it. Either way, as I barrel up the hill and over the top towards the next green space, I think about it. Why did I need the dog to justify my behaviour? We spent thousands of years moving at pace through woodland and across green spaces. This is not just walking the dog, it’s become my daily ritual to dust of the afternoon cobwebs, to keep my body healthy and my mind sharp to give me the best chance of optimal creativity, or entering flow. Would it be less weird if I were on a conveyor belt in sweat pants, behind some glass where I could smell the sweat of others? Fuck that! Those people in gyms are behaving in a far more unnatural way, aren’t they? When you really think about it. Anyway, I couldn’t care less. The momentary return of my 14-year-old self, caught in the maturity trap is annoying, and requires work.