Take it to the bank

TT (my little dog) will often trek round after me and so it was that I had to go to the bank. It’s about a 30 second walk from my house (as is every place in the village) and as I opened the door, she darted in. Too late to retrieve her and make her wait outside so I let her wander round unsure of the rules about canines and banks. It’s a pretty open plan type of office and as I was waiting in the queue, I suddenly heard a yelping. I recognise the sound well as it’s the noise TT makes when you step on her because she’s got under your feet. It was a shrill noise that filled the whole room. I heard someone swearing in Italian and shouting ‘whose dog is this?’ I said nothing knowing that the bank manager and I are on good terms and he would feel embarrassed at such an outburst once he discovered it was my dog and then I would feel embarrassed at his embarrassment and so it would continue in a never-ending embarrassing chain. There would be too many undercurrents and all I wanted to do was to pay in a cheque. I caught sight of him discreetly moving a cloth around the floor with his foot. Clearly he had trodden on TT and the dog had tinkled on the floor. This only added to my embarrassment and as my little pet came towards me, I frowned at her, tutting noisily and opened the door for her to exit. ‘Tut’ I complained ‘people who let their dogs loose in public places…’ She peered at me non-comprehendingly through the window, waiting for me to come out as I mouthed at her ‘Go home… now!’ The bank manager nodded at me appreciatively, glad someone was agreeing with him. How naïve of me; it’s only a matter of time before he finds out who the dog belongs to as everyone knows everything about each other’s lives in the village.