April’s Guest Storyteller, Cee Tee Jackson

Cee Tee Jackson

Cee Tee (Colin) Jackson is an ex-bank manager turned professional dog walker from Houston, Scotland.

He’s a bit of a short arse, with a short attention span. No surprise then, that his first book, ‘Damp Dogs & Rabbit Wee’, at just one hundred and eleven pages, is also a little on the short side.

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Sarah says: I’m delighted to welcome Cee Tee as this month’s guest storyteller. Recently, I had the pleasure of reading the book mentioned above, which falls into the category of non-fiction that is at times stranger than fiction! Seriously, I really enjoyed this book, based on his true experiences as a pet professional, and awarded it five stars on Amazon and Goodreads.

Today, Cee Tee is going to regale us with a tale (tails) from his book.

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The Dangers (Extract from ‘Damp Dogs & Rabbit Wee.’)

I was with three dogs, all from the same household: Ozzie, a bouncy, athletic and energetic bearded collie cross; Gem, a lovely-natured little Staffordshire bull terrier; and Sam, a rather overweight, but ultra-sociable Cairn terrier whose short, stumpy legs struggle to keep his belly from trailing the ground.

In a country park, high in the hills that overlook Paisley and Glasgow, we were following our regular route. As normal, I checked each field for sheep and cattle before entering. Except, on this occasion the cattle were not apparent from the entrance and were actually ensconced in an obscured dip, around a bend.

The three dogs were off-lead and slightly ahead of me as they charged through the open ground. Well, Ozzie and Gem, at least – Sam was mooching his way around as usual, searching for scraps of discarded picnic food and leaving his scent-mark on just about every raised tuft of grass that he passed.

I knew something was wrong the instant all three stopped what they were doing and stood still. Gem threw me a look from over her shoulder which I loosely translated as:

“We’ve got a problem …”

Confronting us now, and quickly rising to their feet, were about twenty cows. Worse – they each had their young with them.

I returned Gem’s look, hoping she’d interpret it as:

“Keep calm, and walk slowly towards the woods.”

At least in there, I reckoned, the cattle would have no room to charge us, and if we were seen to be walking away from them, hopefully they’d realise we intended no harm to their calves.

The most vociferous of the herd was by now no more than four metres from me. She was snorting and stamping her front hooves on the ground. The others were becoming more animated and vocal as they circled us. I shot a look towards the wooded area, some fifty metres away.

The alarmed baying of the group in front of us had alerted a splinter-herd, who had been resting-up in the shade of the very same woods.

Gem slowly turned her head towards me, a quizzical look on her face. I think she was saying:

“What now, wise-guy?”

‘What now?’ indeed.

Well, Ozzie, being of nimble foot, had already made himself scarce and scarpered towards the bottom end of the field. Gem, ever so trusting, was still awaiting instruction.

Sam, completely unaware of any possible danger, decided he’d like to make friends with the cattle. This was not helping, at all.

A car stopped on the road that bisects the park, and the driver came to the fence around a hundred metres away. From his vantage point, down the slope from where we were cornered, he could see a gap forming in the herd. He shouted to me and pointed to where we should run.

And run we did – Gem close by my side.

It was, as I’d read in magazine articles, ‘every man and dog for themselves,’ as we, the faithful Gem and myself, raced through the break in formation. Sam, however was still dithering around with his new ‘pals.’

“Come on Sam” I hollered. “BISCUITS!”

That did the trick. His little legs were a blur as he tried to catch up, more afraid of missing out on a treat than the danger of being trampled and kicked to death by an irate cow or two.

We quickly reached the sanctuary of the road, where Ozzie was waiting:

“What kept you?” I could imagine him panting.

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Damp Dogs and Rabbit Wee is available to buy (Kindle and Paperback edition) from amazon.co.uk and amazon.com

Cee Tee’s links
Blog
Facebook
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You can find the links to previous guest storyteller posts at 

 

Author: Sarah Potter Writes

Sarah is a British eccentric who writes offbeat fiction, haiku and tanka poetry. When stuck for words, she sketches or paints instead. She's into nature conservation, sustainability, gardening, dogs, natural health, and reading. Her sociability is something that happens in short bursts with long breathing spaces in between.

15 thoughts on “April’s Guest Storyteller, Cee Tee Jackson”

  1. Cool story, C.T. Cows look so bucolic at a distance; we have a fair amount of them, chickens, a few ducks, donkeys, and goats here and there in the ‘neighbourhood.’ Dog-walking is such good exercise, too–especially evidenced by the running at the end of this anecdote! Wishing you much luck on your book marketing, too.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I remember going for a country walk as a teenager and getting cornered by frisky heifers on one side and a cranky horse on the other, with the only means of escape under an electric fence. I was wearing rubber boots, so chose the fence! Walking can be hazardous even without a dog.

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      1. I’ll bet that was a sight, Sarah–glad that you escaped okay. I haven’t been in the field with that many cattle, just a few horses here and there (all gentle, thankfully). Cows are a deceptive lot, it seems. So placid-seeming!

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      2. Cows with calves are a nightmare. They’re far more dangerous than bulls, because they charge at you with their eyes open. Far easier to dodge a bull, who’s running blind. I doubt that a matador’s career would last as long if he fought cows guarding calves!

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      3. That’s interesting to know; I had no idea that bulls literally run blind. I wonder if that’s where the saying originated. And then there’s sharks with their nictitating membrane (if I spelled that correctly), though they’re not running then, are they? Hope all is going well for you these days, Sarah. Already embarking on more publishing/novel pursuits, I see.

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      4. Yes, I’m up to chapter 7 today. Not finding much wrong with the novel, having got over the hurdle of the first chapter. It’s a joy being able to do the formatting at the same time as the read-through. Am seriously thinking of doing a pencil sketch soon, with a view to having a go painting my own cover illustration. I’ve no idea how rusty my art skills are, as I haven’t picked up a brush in years, but they used to be good, so lets hope my ageing hands co-operate with my ageing brain!

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      5. I know I loved something you shared on the blog a while back; it was (and I can’t remember if you said the age you did it) a drawing of pondlife (above and below the surface, if I recall correctly). Definitely much better than I can manage, although I used to doodle back when the husband and I were courting (it was at the ‘beginning’ of e-mail’s popularity, so we also started doing that as well as writing ‘traditional’ letters and phone calls). Well, enough of my rambling. Have a wonderful and creative ‘green’ week! [Is that chocolate Labrador puppy yours or your daughter’s? If yours, I’ll be you’re having a lot of fun!]

        Liked by 1 person

      6. The puppy is mine, but now she’s an 8- year-old who still thinks she’s a puppy sometimes! Everybody thinks she’s half the age she is, despite her grey chin. She’s always great fun — an entertainment a minute, in fact.

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