Show Me The Way To Go Home (bp coyle)

Almost home when we ran into three inebriated people. Best guess, a couple and a male friend. The friend wandered to a wall, lay against it and fell asleep.

‘He’s very drunk,’ the awake guy kindly slurred in explanation. ‘We’re trying to get him home. Can you help?’

It was midnight, when I like to walk my dog. The women was down on her hunkers petting him. ‘Where does he live?’ I asked.

‘We don’t know. That’s a lovely dog! My auntie had one like him. He was called Sam.’ He looked at me expectantly. I had no idea what he was expecting, so I smiled. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Ben.’

‘He likes me most,’ the guy declared to her, as Ben happily wandered between them, loving the attention.

‘Does not,’ she retorted. ‘Here Ben.’

‘Come to me Sam,’ he said.

This went on for a time. I was in a trance watching, it reminded me of White Fang. Eventually Ben began to get overexcited and whine. ‘Oh dear,’ the woman said, ‘we’ve made him cry.’

‘He wants to get on with his walk,’ I lied, dragging Ben away as fast as I could.

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