New 'friend'

I have now moved out of the village and am living in a country house with only 3 cows and a moody group of chickens for company. On Saturday night, I had been invited to a book launch in the village and went first to the house of my former next-door neighbour. My dog TT has quite a following now and her favourite admirer, a little black and white specimen with long pointy ears, is forever looking for her, knowing where she used to live. Of course, he was outside the village house when I approached and went wild with excitement which quickly turned to bitter disappointment when he realised that I was alone. I shrugged at him “TT sends her regards” I consoled him. He cocked his head to one side and sniffed at my shoes. Yes, this lady was definitely the key to finding TT. I collected my next-door neighbour and we set off in my car. The book launch was to be held in the grounds of the village hotel, about a 5 minute drive away. During the journey, I checked my rear-view mirror and could see ‘Blackie’ in fast pursuit. Horror! I was going to be stuck with this beast all evening and he wasn’t even my dog! We arrived at the do and I parked up. Blackie, a little breathless from his run, greeted me happily. “Shoo”, I flapped, but in vain. We walked up to the garden area where champagne was being served. A small group was already in attendance, all smartly dressed. “Please go away” I implored, looking down at my “companion” for the evening. He took this to mean “welcome, stick close”. With each step, I could feel him pressed against my foot, as though some sort of modern foot accessory. At least give me the space to walk unencumbered. A few heads turned. “Hello” I waved breezily as if unaware of my canine escort. My walk became three steps forward, shove to the side to try to free myself, another three steps forward, an intriguing yet puzzling gait to the casual observer. “Is this your dog?” asked a very posh woman with a cluster of diamonds where her hand should have been. I looked down in feigned surprise, my “companion” looked up at me. “You mean this one?” as if there could be any doubt which one she meant “No, he’s just……” The words “a friend” popped out. “He’s just a friend” and I smiled comfortingly. “Oh, I see” she replied, clearly not seeing and moved away to talk to someone more normal. And so the evening proceeded with my little “friend” trailing me around the formal do until at some point the hotel manager crept up to me “Err, excuse me madam, is this your dog”. I flushed “No, he just follows me around”. I really didn’t want to go into lengthy explanations as to why this little being was stuck to my foot. At some point, the manager was able to shoo him away and when I left the event at around 11, I thought I caught a glimpse of my little friend again in my rear-view mirror but jammed down on the accelerator in case he had visions of following me home.