We returned, recently, from a long walk to discover two nice ladies waiting at my gate with a dog. They had found it wandering on its own and thought it might be one of mine, but it wasn’t. A telephone call to the number on the dogs disc and a thoughtful friend who took the dog to his own house (which is far easier to locate than mine) and dog and owner were soon reunited.

The incident made me think and it occurred to me that the number of lost dogs that I have encountered in the past is not that great. I have lost count, however, of the number of lost people that have rolled up to my gate. More often than not there will be two of them and they will ask if I can direct them to ‘the car park’. When I ask them in return which car park in particular, they will look at each other in amazement and almost without fail, one of them will utter those immortal words.

‘Is there more than one, then?’

There will then follow a short quiz. By asking them questions such as:- Is there a toilet in the car park, or an ice cream van, or was it near the deer sanctuary etc., I can usually, by a process of elimination, steer them in the right direction.

Last year the dogs were letting me know that there was someone at the gate. I opened it to find a young lad in a uniform. He was in khaki shorts and shirt and he had a kerchief around his neck. He called me Sir and produced a map… he was lost. I took the map and was about to show him where my house was when he politely stopped me and putting a whistle to his lips he blew a long blast. He was looking down the grass ride to our right so I turned to see what he was up to. I was amazed to see, trotting towards us, seven or eight more lads in similar attire. Even more amazing was the man who brought up the rear; he too was dressed in the same uniform, but he was also festooned in maps and compasses which flapped against his chest and legs as he bounded toward me. I struggled to keep a straight face, he was a big man and stretched his clothes to the limit, and he reminded me of a caricature of a scoutmaster that I had once seen. After closer examination I came to the conclusion that he was carrying just about every navigational aid, know to mankind…..how could he be lost? The lad called him ‘Skip’ and explained that I could help. He took my advice politely and without question and they all thanked me in turn as they set off on their way. As the last lad went past I asked him who they were. He told me they were Air Cadets and that they were on a navigation course. My reply to him was that I would certainly not be flying with them in the future!

Most people are polite and usually relieved to be helped but there has only ever been one person who didn’t get my help. Once again the dogs warned me of interlopers and as I approached the gate I heard the babble of several voices. There was one voice that dominated the others and the owner of that voice glared at me as if I shouldn’t be there, when I stepped through the gate. I asked if they were lost and could I help? He referred to me as ‘my good man’ and told me in no uncertain terms that he had never ever been lost in his lifetime. He nodded towards the house and told me with a smug look that it was Railway Cottage. I replied in the negative and he gave me a hard stare and said that I was wrong! I couldn’t believe my ears. I pointed to the house name on the fence beside me. He looked at it and once again told me I was mistaken. I didn’t know who he was, but I wasn’t going to put up with this arrogant individual who was telling me that I didn’t know the name of my own house! I asked him if he was absolutely sure that he had never ever been lost before. He confirmed, in no uncertain terms, that he hadn’t.

‘Well congratulations’ I said as I turned to leave him to it. ‘You are now!’

Now its time I got lost too. Ian Thew

Next week a call from a desperate lady, who was at her wits end with the rapid destruction of her garden..