PAINTED WORDS

MONDAY 15th FEBRUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~PAINTED WORDS

PAINTED WORDS

by John Yeo

    Joe Young was 18, the second youngest in his family, his elder sister was at university studying to become a nurse. Joe was a budding painter keen to take up an art course in college. The postman had delivered an invitation to attend an interview and he was excited.  He quickly dialled up his friend Betty to find out if she had received her invitation.

   ‘Hey Betty!’

    ‘Joe! I tried to get you earlier, but your phone was busy. Good news! My interview is next Wednesday at 09;00, in London.’

   ‘Wow! My interview is at midday! Maybe we can go together if you like.’

   ‘OK Joe!  Are you worried about your recent experience when the local police caught you writing slogans with a spray can about global warming and big business?’

   ‘Not really Betty, they gave me an unofficial warning as they caught me decorating a derelict building. I won’t even bother to mention it.’

    ‘That’s great! I’ll meet you at the station on Wednesday, Joe.’

The week dragged along slowly with both Joe and Betty on tenterhooks. They both called each other almost every day, rehearsing their responses to the questions they were likely to face during their interviews.

   Joe actually contacted the local police station to enquire if he should raise the worrying issue and he was assured there wasn’t any problem.

  In spite of this they both arrived late at the railway station. They were soon running down the platform at top speed as the train had been sitting in the station for several minutes before they arrived. 

      “C’mon Betty! Keep up, we mustn’t miss the train, I’ve been waiting so long to get this interview over with. Means a lot to both of us.” Joe said, literally tugging her along.

  ‘Alright Joe, I’m coming! Please don’t pull my sleeve like that. You will ruin my new coat, I bought it especially for this college interview. It will be great to go to the same Art college.’

    ‘Wait, please wait!’ shouted Joe to the Guard who stood on the platform with a flag and his whistle, which he raised to his lips ready to set the train in motion. He smiled as the young couple dashed up and jumped into the nearest carriage. 

   ‘Phew, that was close!’ Joe went on, as Betty collapsed in the nearest seat to the door. The train soon pulled away from the station into the leafy countryside speeding through the rural beauty of England on the way from their hometown of Ware to the city of London. It was then that they took notice of the other two passengers in the carriage, an elderly gentleman with a smartly dressed young lady, both were politely smiling, as Joe and Betty settled back into their seats.

   ‘Look at that wonderful view Joe,’  said Betty. ‘Beautiful farms and country houses set in acres of rolling countryside.’

    Joe grunted in reply, as he put his head down studying his iPhone intently. The closer they got to the city, the more derelict and decrepit the buildings looked as large blocks of flats and terraced houses became views of factories and industrial units. The buildings were covered in graffiti; an amazing variety of shapes and patterns and pictures that seemed to accentuate the general state of urban decay. 

    Betty was shocked at this change of scene. ‘Joe, that’s disgraceful, look at that shocking rubbish and abandoned litter, piled around the buildings and the graffiti all over the walls!’

     Joe looked up from his device and said, ‘Betty, I hate the rubbish and the piles of junk all over the place but I think some of the graffiti is good and actually has the effect of brightening up the urban landscape.’

    Betty then replied, ‘Joe, that graffiti is mostly rubbish and has no meaning, just block initials and hearts and zigzags.’

    There was a polite cough as the elderly gentleman in the opposite corner of the carriage broke in. ‘I beg to differ, young lady, graffiti is an example not only of urban decay it reveals the underlying artistic decay of the population. This is an example of youth expressing themselves in the nearest they can get to pure art.’

    Joe then looked closely at their traveling companion and gasped, ‘You are Sir Larry the television artist, who has made money from urban art! We are off to college to be interviewed for our places.’

   The young lady then smiled and said, ‘Sir Larry will be on the selection panel!’

 Betty said, ‘I hope I haven’t put my foot in it by what I said.’

 The gentleman smiled and said, ‘I am sure you will get a place; both of you, I am a prime example of artistic decay, I was a graffiti artist once a long time ago.’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

WAVING WINTER WHEAT

WEDNESDAY 10th FEBRUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~WAVING WINTER WHEAT

WAVING WINTER WHEAT

by John Yeo

   Restivo was an urban rat; the leader of a large rat pack that inhabited the maze of London sewers. Life had been comfortable for everyone in the pack, with the families enjoying gourmet meals, scavenged from numerous restaurant bins and the discarded remains of takeaway meals carelessly dumped on the city streets. 

  Things began to get strangely difficult when their food supply suddenly dried up. Restivo made enquiries among all the senior members. 

 It was Bertram, an aggressive fearless brown rat who provided the first clue.

   ‘The two-legged giants seem to have disappeared overnight and there’s been no food scraps available. Our food-sources are dark and locked up, with nothing to eat anywhere.’

   Lady Belle, a handsome brown rat said, ‘How am I going to feed the family? Without the giants we will starve. It’s bad enough losing my friends to vicious poisoning.’ 

   ‘Don’t forget it’s the giants who are poisoning us. Now they are staying indoors, locked down so there will be no poison.’  remarked Bertram.

   ‘Yes; but we will all starve in the city without the two-legged giants,’  cried Lady Belle.

  Within a week, food was becoming scarcer and scarcer, during the disappearance of the locked-down two-legged giants. No-one was eating in their restaurants and discarded food was becoming scarcer. Restivo, the leader of the pack, called the rats to a mass meeting. 

  ‘Listen friends, we’re moving out to the green fields of the farms with huge grain stores, and mounds of food growing everywhere. There are vegetables and fruit freely available, growing in orchards. Beautiful wheat-fields with gentle summer breezes and crops of waving winter wheat, ready to be harvested by our families.’

  There was a chorus of agreement, then Roberta Rat shouted.

‘ Where are we off to Boss?’

‘The hinterland just outside town.’

.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

FEVERISH FIASCOS

MONDAY 8th FEBRUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~FEVERISH FIASCOS


FEVERISH FIASCOS

by John Yeo

   Bill Jones was a happy-go-lucky normal teenager, happy to go through life, dancing at the assorted local dance halls in the small town where he lived and taking part in local five-a-side football games. He was toughly brought-up; as the result of his parents marriage breakdown, he grew up and was schooled in a succession of care homes. That was the beginning of a life full of feverish, frenetic fiascos. Bill would just get settled into a way of life, then fate would intervene and rip his new situation to shreds.

   Bill was considered quite good looking, with his black hair, blue eyes and a roman nose, he had little trouble attracting girlfriends at the various dance venues. It was at a local social club he met Maria, a pretty girl, with long dark hair and brown eyes. It was an instant attraction on both sides and after the dance he escorted her home, where he was introduced to her Spanish Mother and Father and her four brothers. The relationship developed and became quite stormy, Maria had inherited her parents’ stormy Latin temperament. 

 One day, a few months later, Maria frantically called Bill to meet up with her urgently, she was breathless and panting feverishly, almost in a state of shock. 

   ‘I need to see you, NOW! I’ve got something important to tell you. Come to Luigi’s, the local bistro AT ONCE!’

   ‘OK! ‘ replied Bill.

  They were soon seated opposite each other and Maria bluntly said,  ‘I’m pregnant!’

  ‘What! How come? I thought you were on the pill.’

  ‘I always take it but….’

 At this moment, Maria started to shake and became feverish. 

  Bill was concerned and said,  ‘Shall I call a doctor?’

    ‘No!’ screamed Maria, ‘If my family finds out, there’ll be trouble. My brothers will kill you! What are we going to do?’ 

     Bill said, ‘I don’t know. I think we may have to run away and start a new life together.’

  Maria became upset again and Bill called for a glass of water from the waiter.

    A new feverish fiasco began as they rapidly made plans to steal away and travel to a large city many miles away. Bill had an old school friend Tony, who had agreed to put them up. Tony even introduced them to a landlord who had some accommodation to rent.

    The apartment was in a large Edwardian house set in the centre of a row of rundown properties; one-time well-to-do dwellings for the upper middle classes. They rented a two-roomed furnished apartment on the second floor. The wallpaper featured male peacocks with their tails in full courting display. A mud-coloured threadbare, worn carpet graced the floor. Their bed was a double sized mattress on the floor with four grubby pillows and a heap of assorted coats and blankets for warmth. There were a couple of battered wooden dining chairs with clothes piled on them to take the place of a non-existent wardrobe. The kitchenette comprised a tiny electric cooker in a corner of the living room with a sink for washing and cooking.

   They had neighbours, Sarah and Josh on the same landing, who also rented a couple of rooms with a huge number of electronic devices connected to an illegal supply of electricity. 

   A couple of months later, Bill came home to find Maria in a feverish condition, terribly upset, crying bitterly. 

  ‘What’s the matter, love?

   ‘Bill! I think I’ve lost the baby.’

Bill called the Doctor who examined her and confirmed she certainly wasn’t pregnant, but she seemed to have frequent feverish spells, which suggested she had a hysterical personality.

Bill swore his life consisted of a series of frenetic fiascos that would blend nicely with this diagnosis.  

 They made peace with Maria’s family; got married; and they lived and loved through many more frenetic, feverish, fiascos together.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

THE DAY AFTER EVENTUALLY

FRIDAY 5th FEBRUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ THE DAY AFTER EVENTUALLY

THE DAY AFTER EVENTUALLY

by John Yeo

  ‘Gerri, the Coronavirus update is just beginning on TV love! It’s the PM, alongside the PROF. outlining the health view and SIR.P., taking the scientific stance’ exclaimed  Peter Smith, quite loudly as his wife Geraldine was busy in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. There was a vocal reaction to this, Peter was unsure how this information had been received. Sometimes he felt that his wife’s surface enthusiastic response masked an undercurrent of resignation. They had endured the highs and lows of the worldwide pandemic for almost a year now and the constant flow of facts and figures and graphs had begun to show signs of overkill. They sat down together to listen to the latest stream of data.


    The PM opened the proceedings with a long fact-filled description of the latest developments. This inspiring rundown of facts and figures ended with the sentence…..’We are making excellent progress in the fight against this deadly threat to our way of life and I’m sure we will eventually be able to get this virus under control. I will now hand you over to the Prof, who will outline the situation so far.’
 

The Professor confidently began to interpret the meaning of the figures on several  charts and after some health advice finished by saying. ‘If everyone obeys the recommended behavioural instructions, eventually we will certainly beat this virus.’

Next, Sir P, the esteemed head of science outlined the up-to-minute  scientific research on the progress of the worldwide attempts to produce an effective vaccine to stem the uncontrolled spread of the virus. His closing words were, ‘Eventually, when the bulk of the population has had a vaccination, herd immunity will develop and we will have the virus on the run.
   

Eventually after some questions from the media and the public the PM closed the meeting with the words….Stay at home, Protect the NHS,  Save lives and eventually we’ll certainly beat this virus.

      Geraldine looked at Peter and said, ‘It’s frightening Pete! Whatever are we going to do on the day after eventually?’

    Peter grinned and replied, ‘Easy Geri! We’ll invite our friends and family round to enjoy a wild party and celebrate for the whole day!’

     ‘Ooh Yes Pete! Then we can book a holiday abroad and celebrate with the rest of the family overseas.’

 © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

AN UNSPOKEN LANGUAGE

THURSDAY 4th FEBRUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~AN UNSPOKEN LANGUAGE


AN UNSPOKEN LANGUAGE

by John Yeo

   Alistair Carlton-Smith enjoyed his job, ferrying passengers on short pleasure flights, who were prepared to enjoy the spectacular views of La Gomera, a small mountainous island in the Canary Islands from the air.
  Alistair was an ex-pilot who had trained and obtained his flying qualifications in the UK. He was a happy-go-lucky man with an easy-going personality who excelled in his job and loved his laid back lifestyle. On the fateful day where our story begins, he picked up a young couple at the airfield. The young man, conspicuous by a shock of bright red hair with a face full of freckles, was quite short with a bubbly demeanour. He was accompanied by his girlfriend; a pretty young woman with long auburn hair and piercing green eyes.

    ‘Welcome aboard folks, Lovely to meet you both, I’m Alistair, what do you call yourselves?’

    ‘I’m Jenny, and this handsome man is my boyfriend Mike.’

    ‘Lovely to meet you both, we have a few formalities before takeoff, but you are in for a ride you will never forget.’

  Little did Captain Alistair realise how prophetic those words would be. The scenery they flew over was spectacular, steep rocky mountains that engulfed the island sheltering fertile valleys where hardy people had lived and survived on the rocky fertile land for centuries; scraping a living by exporting their produce to the mainland. Captain Alistair handled his aircraft with ease, climbing high peaks and diving down low into rocky valleys, pointing out the precipitous beauty of the landscape, with soaring ravines and sleepy villages. 

  Suddenly there was a shudder in the engine as they were making a steep climb.

   ‘What’s that Captain?’ Mike yelled as the plane began to nosedive towards the floor of a large isolated valley containing what looked  like a dried-up riverbed. 

   ‘I’m not certain,’ replied Captain Alistair, ‘Seems to be a fuel problem, although we were fully refuelled before we took off, I’m going to attempt a landing in that riverbed and call for help. Hold tight’

. The aircraft hit the ground and came to a juddering halt.

   Jenny and Mike were shaken up but unharmed. Captain Alistair attempted to send an SOS, but sadly the radio was badly damaged in the crash landing. Mobile telephone signals were impossibly non-existent here.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ cried Jenny, looking at the steep sides of the mountain that surrounded them.

   Captain Alistair  grinned reassuring and proceeded to purse his lips and emit a loud, sharp, series of whistles. 

    ‘What are you doing?’ shouted Mike ‘This isn’t the time to whistle in the wind.’

   The response from the erstwhile pilot was a further series of even louder whistles. Jenny began sobbing helplessly as the whistling continued unabated. Suddenly there was an answering whistle from one side of the valley and another fainter whistle from further afield. After a few moments of this weird symphony, Captain Alistair turned to his passengers and said,

   ‘Don’t worry, help is on the way.’

  Jenny and Mike were astonished when a rescue helicopter arrived and hovered above them sending down a rope ladder. 

The alarm had been raised by the use of a whistling language that is unique to La Gomera, a fascinating demonstration of La Gomera’s unique whistling language. This is a historical form of communication the early settlers developed, to pass messages from one high ravine to another. Sadly assumed to be redundant, in these days of mobile phones, the authorities are trying to preserve this whistling language, through compulsory lessons at school.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

(Information from the internet)

‘On the small and mountainous island in the Canaries called La Gomera, Silbo Gomero is a language that employs a range of whistle sounds in place of words. In Spanish, “silbar” means to whistle, and the language of Silbo Gomero consists of four ”vowels” and four ”consonants” that when put together form as many as 4,000 words. This avian method of communication is believed by scholars to have arrived with the early African settlers as long as 2,500 years ago. And it can be heard for up to two miles. “Silbadors” were once considered a dying breed, but since 1999 Silbo has been a required language in La Gomera schools.’

LITTLE BY LITTLE

TUESDAY 2nd FEBRUARY 2021
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ LITTLE BY LITTLE

I lay on the mountainside seeking inspiration. I examined my problem to solve the conundrum. It began to rain, I looked at my watch. A drop of rain landed on my nose and supplied the answer. 

~~~~~

LITTLE BY LITTLE


by John Yeo

Every day, with the warming return of the watery sun, the snow would melt, then seep and freeze again.

Forming pools of water that would rise and trickle and soon flood the surrounding plains.

 It starts in the mountain peaks, flowing and falling down rocky slopes, creating rivulets and cataracts descending into well-worn river beds. 

Tiny drops of water that little by little would wear away and hone and shape the boulders and rocky escarpments.

 Erosion over time smooths hard rock. 

Water, dripping on a rock over thousands of years, can eat through the rock. 

A river pounding against rock can cut through the rock over an extended period of time. 

Caves, set in the mountainside, created by rainwater slowly seeping through limestone rock, are formed little by little as the centuries turn into aeons. 

Stalagmites and stalactites are formed by traces of dissolved rock deposited by water dripping from the ground above.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

~~~~

I realise there is a lot of truth in the old adage, ‘The sands of time grind exceeding small.’ Perhaps a parallel should be, ‘A drop of water can create the sand.’

ELEMENTAL ORBITS

FRIDAY 29th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ELEMENTAL ORBITS

ELEMENTAL ORBITS

by John Yeo

  The castle looked fantastic. We had arrived in orbit around  a mysterious gold planet.

A massive fortress loomed up as we arrived and our spacecraft began to orbit around the planet.
     ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Palmer, the officer in control of the outer cameras.  ‘What’s that? It seems to be shining like gold in the path of the light reflected from the twin Suns orbiting the planet.’


    ‘OK, Captain,’  shouted  Palmer, ‘Remote surface readings, indicate an atmosphere that is identical to Earth’s. There is a solid surface, one mile away from the castle. The area around the castle however is reading as unstable, almost like a quicksand in the desert. I can only describe this as a dust moat. There is no indication of life anywhere at this time. The castle itself is certainly built of gold, it’s registering as element 79, on our geological instruments.’

‘I’m not sure but I think that is actually gold; or it could be a brand new material unknown to our science. We better get down there and take a look. Prepare to land. Take your places  everyone in the landing party.’ said the Captain. 

The Captain responded with the words, ‘Stand-by team! We are going down. Follow my instructions to the letter, we must be on our guard against all eventualities.’
  The desert Suns were competing with each other to scorch the surface of the planet, as the landing craft set down as close to the castle as possible. Gold was the element that drew the travellers to this scorching, parched, planet. A solid gold castle that promised astounding riches. A strong whirlwind began to swirl the surface dust of the planet, covering everything and everyone. Visibility became poor, then impossible, the team quickly erected pods to shield them from the swirling, whirling, maelstrom of dust.
Some time later when the storm had abated, the team emerged from their shelters to an astounding discovery. The castle had completely disappeared, the Captain immediately ordered the mission to be aborted with a rapid return to the ship. As the spacecraft took off and entered into a searching elemental orbit around the planet using the geological instruments, the officer on the watch gasped as the gold castle was clearly visible on the planet once again.
  ‘Captain! Look a bridge has appeared across the dry moat, do you think this is a sign of welcome!’ exclaimed officer Mcquirter.
  The Captain was dismissive and ordered the spacecraft to continue into space.
    ‘We will record this as alien science; an astonishing planet, I am not prepared to risk our lives by landing again. We narrowly escaped a strange fate, a dusty quicksand moat can suck the unwary into a painful death. Onward team!’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


RICOCHETING ROCKETS

 SUNDAY 24th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~RICOCHETING ROCKETS

RICOCHETING ROCKETS

by  John Yeo

   The world was on full alert. The media had broadcast warning after warning of an unidentifiable, asteroid-like object; rapidly approaching the Earth. Panic had set in among the leaders of the world’s nations. In spite of many warnings and prophetic utterances of approaching doom. The strange object just got closer and closer and seemed to be on a collision course. The richest nations proposed to strike the object with strategically aimed missiles and blow it to smithereens. The plan was to save as many lives as possible by limiting the collision damage to small pieces. The most powerful telescope lens on Earth was trained on the unidentified object. To the scientist’s great surprise it was a transparent rock with gaseous clouds visible inside. Clouds that seemed to have shifting forms, with some moving independently and some conjoined. This new information arrived too late for any deviation from the damage limitation decision. The leaders had already decided and a barrage of rockets was already on the way Incredibly the massed nuclear rockets were deflected and ricocheted off the surface of the asteroid-like object. Then cracks appeared in the glasslike surface and suddenly the whole asteroid was black and invisible to the human eye.

 ‘That’s not an asteroid! That’s a spaceship under alien control. We must try to contact the occupants.!’ yelled Professor Stevens to the team in NASA control. ‘Somebody should inform President Jonas, our armaments are useless!’

At that precise moment the power failed, the lights went out and Planet Earth was pitched into a dark void.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

PICCADILLY SQUARE

FRIDAY 22nd JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ Piccadilly Square

PICCADILLY SQUARE

by John Yeo

  Joey, a hard-bitten, streetwise, London taxi cab driver queued up in a line of cabs waiting for passengers along the rank at Kings Cross station in central London. Joey had a philosophical approach to life, profit was everything. 

He was a short, stocky man, with a misshapen nose that was a relic from his school days when he excelled in the boxing ring. His friend Fred was seated in the cab behind and he sidled up for a chat while they waited.

  ‘Hey Joey! Heard the latest? There’s a group of smart-alecs about. They will hire your cab then give you the runaround.’

 At that moment an oriental gentleman opened the cab door and said.

 ‘Can you take me to Piccadilly Square please?’

Joey’s eyes gleamed when he heard this mispronunciation.

  ‘Certainly Sir!’

The gentleman climbed into the cab, breathing heavily with the effort.

 Joey began his usual flow of disarming conversation and said, 

‘Is this your first visit to London Sir?’

The stranger nodded and gazed out of the window at the dense traffic and the slow progress they were making.

Joey continued. ‘What part of the world are you from?’

  ‘China, I am here to visit my relatives who run a restaurant here. I understand Lord Nelson is commemorated in the square.’

  Joey couldn’t quite work this reply out but he didn’t respond and concentrated on the traffic. Finally they reached Piccadilly Circus and Joey pointed out Eros, the fountain. It was surrounded by tourists of all nationalities. 

 ‘Rumour has it that you will meet everyone you have ever known here if you stay long enough.’ said Joey.

 At that point another Asian gentleman knocked on the window and  Joey said, ‘Sorry, I’m not for hire.’ 

To his astonishment his passenger excitedly opened the window and began chatting away. They were old friends.

Joey said to his passenger, ‘There’s £125 to pay please.’

The passenger then enquired. ‘Where is the famous column and the statue of Lord Nelson?’

  Joey then began to understand. ‘Oh you want to get to Trafalgar Circus, I’ll take you both there for another £125.’

  As the sun went down in Central London on another day of ripoffs, misunderstanding and linguistic shenanigans, two TV actors removed their oriental makeup and went to a local pub for a well earned nightcap.

Joey the taxi driver had enjoyed a profitable day indeed. Little did he know his day of reckoning was just around the corner. Somewhere between Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square.

© Written by John Yeo ~ all rights reserved

LICKABLE LOTIONS

WEDNESDAY 20th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ Lickable lotions

LICKABLE LOTIONS 

by John Yeo

  Farmer Ben Jones had worked as a successful sheep farmer for many years. A short stocky man with a ruddy, weather beaten face that reflected his years of coping with the ups and downs of working as a successful livestock farmer in all weathers. 

The farm was located on the hilly terrain of North Wales and subject to extremes of weather conditions from fierce winter winds with driving rain, to beautiful spring sunshine, encouraging fresh green grass where his flock could contentedly graze. 

The large flock of sheep with their lambs were expertly controlled by his three well trained, energetic, intelligent border collie, sheepdogs, Meg, Shep and Spot.

  His pretty wife Betty, a tiny lady, whose stature didn’t reflect her ingrained toughness, had trained as a vet, before she married Farmer Ben and became a full time farmers wife and a mother to their 15 years old son James. 

  One day Spot began licking one of his front paws more than usual, whimpering quietly to himself, James came in from the yard having fed the dogs, this was part of his daily routine. 

    ‘Hey Dad! what’s  up with Spot? He keeps licking his front paw and he’s not himself.’

    ‘Farmer Ben looked up and grinned, ‘Well spotted son! You’re learning fast. Your Mum has been looking after him with some of her TLC.’

     ‘That’s right James, I think he has a slight infection on his foot pad and I’ve plastered it with some of my special lotion.’ said Betty.

 James looked slightly puzzled at this and exclaimed! ‘Surely it’s no good if he keeps on licking it away. Is it safe?”

 His Dad proudly smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry son. Your Mum knows what she’s doing.’

  Betty patted him on the back and said, ‘Good point James, I used a safe lickable lotion that will do no harm to Spot’s insides. I will renew the lotion later and dress his paw overnight so he can’t lick it off again. I didn’t want him to run around for the rest of the day with a bandage on his foot.’

  Farmer Ben and James then made a special visit to make a big fuss of Meg and Shep, while Betty was caring for Spot. 

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved.