I should know better

The other day I was brought running out by a great commotion of dogs at the gate. Pushing my way through a seething mass of Papillons who hadn`t had any excitement since they failed to get out and mug the postman, I came face to butt with a selection of the county`s finest.

I didn`t have a fire.

But I did have two big red fire engnes, just outside the gate, one of them firmly stuck and eighteen firemen pushing, heaving, and generally living up to the maxim -

“When in trouble, when in doubt
Run in circles, scream and shout”

Well at least there was a lot of shouting.

My little road was completely blocked. It`s just fire engine width. I walked up the verge and inquired politely as to the fire. I pointed out I didn`t have one.

“No, it`s up there”. One of them waved a hand at the derelict house up the road.

“Then why are you here?”

Embarrassed silence. Eventually it came out that the driver had thought he could reverse into my road, had landed in the hedge and then did that daft male thing of letting it roll back so as to take a run at it.

And now he had run out of road and ideas.

I had a horrible vision. In a moment someone was going to suggest that they just leave it for the Council to retrieve. I could see myself marooned behind a huge red hulk rusting away for months or years. (I have great faith in the Council).

“You need a winch,” I suggested.

Everyone brightened up. A huge chain, fit to tether the Titanic, with matching hook was produced. To my amazement this was solemnly attached to a tiny manpowered winch, not much bigger than a car jack, worked by two men at one handle. Yes, it took hours, as they pumped and the others heaved and the machine moved an inch at a time.

At last they got it round the corner. I looked sadly at the chewed up road and came over all little old lady – and bless them, they got out shovels and did some repairs.

Let`s hope I never really have a fire.