I took everybody for a walk yesterday morning as I am wont to do. The Fairy misjudged the ambient temperature which was about ten degrees higher than she had expected. She ended up carrying our coats, and moaned about it all the way home.
As soon as we left the dwelling unit, the strength of the wind was obvious. I thought perhaps it would die down as we ventured further afield, but if anything, the opposite was true. Naturally I was concerned for the safety of my unit, and felt it prudent to terminate the expedition and return to base as quickly as possible. Attempts to push The Fairy from behind failed, so I adjusted my approach and adopted the pull and drag technique. Despite taking longer than I would have hoped, we did eventually return safely and I completed a quick head count before heading straight for the phone.
It had taken longer than anticipated, but I had eventually tracked down Simon at the Department of Energy & Climate Change’s mobile number. I felt outraged that he had allowed the wind to become so strong and feel very strongly that if he doesn’t take his climate responsibilities seriously, he shouldn’t be in the job. Naturally, I rang him straight away to express my anger.
He was less happy than I would expect a man on holiday to be. He seemed more interested in where I had obtained his private number than in the current weather conditions. I am a real believer in giving credit where it’s due, so although I did disclose that I had found the number on my own, I also mentioned the level of support I had received from his secretary. Too often the back room staff do not receive the recognition they deserve so I felt I was doing a good deed by mentioning his role in this matter. I’m sure he will appreciate my thoughtfulness.
Unfortunately, Simon was unable to speak in any depth, so I told him that I would contact him again at another time. He tried to tell me never to ring him again, and became quite passionate about this, expressing himself in quite an animated way.
Far be it from me to criticise him, but there really was no need for that kind of language.
Monty
Greyhounds In Charge 