I was on a yoga mat in my M&S pink polka-dot underwear when the police arrived. I am genetically pre-disposed to panic as soon as I see a policeman. I spent my childhood watching my mother shout ‘help’ every time one came anywhere near us, even if he was just innocently arresting someone else.
But these policemen were at my door in full uniform and carrying guns. Things did not look promising.
“Is zis your dog?” asked one of them, although not of course in an Inspector Clouseau accent, because he was speaking French. But you get the idea. “E ‘as murdered a lamb.”
“Wolfie doesn’t eat lamb,” I was tempted to respond but thought better of it. “Are you sure it’s him?” I asked.
“I sink so,” said the other inspector (why they need to send two policemen round to see a lamb-murdering suspect I don’t understand). “E is all wet, he ‘as washed all the traces of blood away.”
Right – so Wolfie thought ‘yum that was jolly good but if mummy sees me covered in blood she’ll get suspicious, I’d better have a bath.’ Yep, I wondered where my lavender bath oil had got to.
Wolfie watched us with an air of amusement throughout the conversation and didn’t object to the mug-shots they took of him to show the owner of the dead lamb.
“We’ll call you when we have a positive identification,” they said and drove off.
Ten minutes later another car arrived. It’s bloody hard to get any yoga done round here. This time it was the owner of said deceased lamb.
“Are you the owner of an Alsatian?”
“Allegedly, ” I replied, and added “but I don’t think he murdered your lamb, he was here all morning and anyway he’s not very aggressive.”
“Where is he? I want to see him,” he demanded. I called Wolfie thinking this might be the last time I ever saw him alive and wondering what sort of carpet he might make.
“It’s not him,” said the man, suddenly becoming quite civil and even patting Wolfie.
So I am now on my yoga mat once more, breathing heavily with relief. I am addicted to yoga after a two-day dry-run for our Renew Retreat which I completed this morning. I feel marvellous after just two days and can’t wait to see how I good I feel after the full weekend in May. Let’s just hope we don’t have as many men in uniform showing up, unless of course they’re willing to give us a massage.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008