The Blog From The Bog; Disjointed rants and ravings of a fluently foul mouthed, ex pat living in Co. Leitrim, here giving full rein to his own quirkiness. The character of " Ditch Shitter " having been forged, over years, on 'The Hunting Life' forum proved so strangely popular with enough people there, before I left, that their now constant drip of " Long time, no see; What ye up to? " notes has led me to answer them all, here.
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Let's Hear It For An Garda Síochána!
Just mingling about in my kitchen. Clearing up, having just put a brew of beer together.
I'm waiting on Pat, who's agreed to come down here and give me a hand with his donkeys feet. They terribly need doing. Farrier's a bit out of the question, just now, obviously.
I tried, yesterday. Brown Donkey's about as passive as a piece of cotton wool ~ I chose her, from a small herd.
But, though I could lift her back leg easily? I just never had the strength, in my skinny and unused arms, to pull the handles of the hoof croppers together!
So, the plan is that I'll manage Donkey, while Pat uses the croppers. I can then set to with my rasp, to make a proper job.
And, that's when my alarm system told me someone was coming. Fully expecting Pat, I grabbed my rasp and went, smiling out the door.
And there was the expected, white motor, pulling up to my gate. Only, this wasn't Pat's motor. His doesn't have the emblem of the Gardai emblazoned across the bonnet!
My smile has frozen into a rictus grin! I'm so glad I'd just been to the ditch. Or I'd very likely have shit my fuckin' self, right there and then!
Fifteen years and I've Never had an unexpected visit from the Gards! My mind was racing. WTF could they want?
Two strapping lads got out. Full uniforms. Leaned on their doors and one was speaking to me, over the din of Dogs shouting.
I'm about ready to pass out with stress. Bellow at the Dogs to Shut The Fuck Up! And, finally, what this young chap's saying starts sinking in!
Basically; 'Am I alright? Did I have everything I need? Any prescriptions needing picking up? Have I got plenty of food? Am I coping alright?'
I couldn't believe it! Talk about caught on the back foot!
Of course, I assured them my freezer was rammed full. My Dogs were all extremely well fed. I was, basically, perfectly well and wanting for nothing.
When I gleefully added; " I even make my own beer! " All three of us roared with fucking laughter! And, that was that.
But, what a fucking wonderful experience! As I read of police forces, round the world, basically taking the opportunity to treat people exactly like so much fucking livestock.
Throwing their weight around. Showing who's boss.
There's My experience of our Gards. Barely ever fucking see them. And, when ye do? They're prowling around the countryside, digging out isolated, potentially vulnerable, people and making sure they're alright.
That's made a Big impression on me, frankly. What's that old saying?
" There is no situation the arrival of a copper can't make worse. "
Well, I beg to fucking differ! Fucking fair play to our Gards!
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