The Witch of Worcester

Yes, it’s true, I’ve just been accused of assaulting a man (younger and stronger than myself !) with a Rottweiler. Needless to say I didn’t bite said individual, but tapped him on the shoulder as I thought he was becoming hysterical, and, worse, choking his actually rather nice dog ! Canine mismanagement really concerns me just now !

So what will the West Mercia Constabulary make of this one, I wonder, if the Rottweiler man has the police out to arrest me. Of course, I hope it doesn’t come to this. On the other hand, perhaps I should contact them with my concerns about the Rottweiler’s welfare. The problem is that we human animals aren’t always the best keepers of the other sort.

Local police in Worcester are believed to be searching for an identity thief by the name of Mr Casper (or Kaspar). An encounter today may throw some light on his whereabouts.

Kaspar, a cat, was spotted illicitly entering a show-home after parading in front of Casper, a dog. The dog owner claims Kaspar has been named after Casper. Both creatures are foreign breeds.

One can only presume that Kaspar is looking for a new address, possibly a false one.

A short while ago, at about 3pm this afternoon, I was walking along a busy (with pedestrians) Worcester city centre pavement when a gang of young male yobbos (can’t think of a better description) came hurtling towards me on bicycles (mainly of the small, silly kind apparently favoured by the Worcester youths of today). Needless to say, I was the only person to express any disapproval of this behaviour, which could have easily been the cause of a serious accident, nor, in doing so, did I receive any support from my fellow pedestrians, which included some reasonably fit-looking adult males (if one can go by appearance). This toleration of public terrorising (for that’s what this gang’s behaviour was all about) I actually find more intolerable than the yobs themselves.

So let’s get “Tough on Worcester Wimp Syndrome, Tough on the Causes of Worcester Wimp Syndrome”, I say.

Oh, and, yes, a few more “Traffic Taliban” (of the kind favoured by the North Wales Police Constabulary) wouldn’t go amiss in these parts, provided they attend to the real road and pavement terrorists, and not the occasional harmless cyclist using the public footway when trying to avoid deranged motorists.

I was cycling along a Worcester suburban street yesterday, when a silver 4×4 – apparently without a silencer – exploded loudly in front of me. “What a Pratt !” I shouted, as the vehicle passed me in the opposite direction, and carried on cycling, only to hear shortly later the approach of the loud, and now angry, vehicle/driver from behind. Yes, I was now being pursued and then confronted.

My first instinct as the bald (ageing skinhead ?) driver pulled up in front of me was to threaten to call the police, which I duly did. However, one part of me had been waiting for such an encounter for some time, and was jolly well going to to make the most of it. So swiftly removing the silencer on my battery of expletives, I  released these onto the offending driver/vehicle in rapid succession.

I think he got my message, only managing a rather feeble “Greenpeace” in response to my tirade. However, seeing that the vehicle had no rear number plate, aside from its other dysfunctions, I thought the situation worthy of police attention. Its equally dysfunctional driver, seeing me withdraw my new alien mo-tiffed handbag from my rucksack,  then decided to make a getaway.

“Hasta La Vista Baby” ! Yes, I have been known as The Terminator.