A Dartmoor Day

It was one of those days when an awful lot happened. On that day, for example, Sarah and I saved about five or six foxhounds from drowning. In front of only one witness, the crabby and sometimes disgracefully ill-mannered old Lord Carnock.   On the same day, my little brave pony, Chiquita drank a bottle … Continue reading A Dartmoor Day



Kevin was the office dogsbody, the ‘gofer.’  It was ‘gofer this Kevin and gofer that.  Photocopy this for me, take that lot down to the printers.  Where’s that bloody Kevin put my copy this time and this tea’s bloody cold, warm it up, moron.  And, ‘Kevin, where’s that little creep got to now, just when … Continue reading Kevin