tears have been falling for all the wrong reasons of late but if there was a story to make them flow with laughter; this was going to be it.
a friend of a friend (no, really) was looking after her boyfriend’s dog while he was away. sadly, the dog died in its sleep one night. now, i know all very well the devastation of losing a pet so i do not in any way intend to cheapen the scenario. but what followed simply must be shared.
distraught girlfriend, let’s call her amy (and hope that’s not her name since i don’t actually know it), rings the vet and is told the dog probably suffered a heart attack but that she should bring him in. like most londoners, amy does not have a car. like many londoners, amy’s salary is not conducive to taxi travel. amy, at a loss for an alternative, puts ‘spot’ in a suitcase and takes him on the tube.
now, ‘spot’ – may he rest in peace – wasn’t a small dog and, as a result, the suitcase is particularly heavy. as Amy struggles with him on the escalator, a kind young gentleman offers to help. they get to talking. he comments on how heavy the bag is and asks what’s inside. thinking on her feet, amy explains that she’s a DJ and is relocating her equipment.
once outside the tube station, ‘kind young gentleman’ becomes ‘dead dog thief’ and does the bolt with what he thinks is his new DJ gear.
oh, to have been a fly on the wall when that discovery was made.