Percy And His Flat
With all the family gone there came a time when the Percy Anderson Newmarket Road residence was a bit too much for Percy, and so with some reluctance he sold up and bought a ground floor maisonette in Fen Ditton. It was ideal in many ways as Percy now had plenty of car parking opportunities. Parking right next to his premises rather than having to blag a space in a lock up across the busy Newmarket Road. He could load up his little van at leisure rather than lug all his gear backwards and forwards across the carriageway. The flat was, of course, much easier to look after. His devoted daughter, Tracy, did a tidy up each month, but very quickly things would be quite chaotic again with fishing tackle everywhere, float making going on in the kitchen, mess on the work surfaces and glue stuck on Percy’s nice new leather sofa! When the Children’s Match was coming up there would be all sorts of prizes in boxes all around the flat and Percy would shuffle between rooms not quite knowing where to start. Maurice Mobbs helped Percy a great deal and would go and sort the tackle prizes out. I would, however, have to visit Percy and inspect things and give my approval. Of course it was all Percy’s work getting the prizes together, but I knew different. For those of you with a nervous disposition or who easily shocked it is best perhaps that you do not read on. You see when you visited Percy’s you had to accept you entered the domain of the little terrier – Jimmy dog. The animal had the persona of his master, a single-minded character and lovable rogue. The dog had certain obsessions – rolling in smelly stuff, barking at swans, trying to attack great big vicious dogs and generally looking untidy. There was also another habit. If you sat down on Percy’s nice new sofa be aware! Your foot became fair game for Jimmy. He would come around making his usual excited grunting noise, as he would be pleased to see you, but this also seemed to stimulate a desire to hump anything that he could mount. So, ones trainers were fair game. As quick as a flash he would mount your trainer and grope your leg quite hard with his little front two paws. He would go at it at a fair old rate. No one was exempt from this treatment and so you could have your best gear on and off he would go. Percy saw no harm in this. Foot, dog shagging “what is the problem!” After a few sessions I learnt the best way of dealing with this energetic dog. My tactics were quite simple. I would offer up my foot, but cross-legged so one foot was across my knee placing my other foot at a good accessible height. Jimmy would well go at it, but I had the element of surprise because with one movement of my ankle I could flick the dog’s nuts and send him flying across the room. I became quite proficient at it. On one occasion though I got caught out. There I was sat down having a nice cup of tea, Jimmy dog appears and starts humping my foot. Flick and across the room he went, except this time Percy had seen the action and was not well pleased. In fact I got told off! “What about my shoes Percy” I said. “Never mind son”, said Percy, “I prefer him to hump your shoes rather than the corner of my nice sofa.” "Erm, Ithought that was glue Percy!"