Notoriety in a far flung village

We are a nation who love a bit of a gossip. We are intrinsically nosey. We love it.

I mean if we weren't, we wouldn't be glued to the lives of those on Albert Square or Coronation Street (obviously I'm not as I am far too busy).

A little bit of innocent gossip is harmless when it doesn't hurt. It shows we are human.

The problem comes when the righteous clamber onto the moral pedestal and start to spew forth their judgements - quick to have an opinion, slow to learn the full facts.

The Teen and I went to visit close friends on Sunday, who live in a far flung village in the middle of God Knows Where.

We love going there. The air smells clean and the birdsong is loud. When I am there, I wish it was where we lived.

It seems so much nicer than living next door to some sort of community centre that hold line dancing lessons and aerobics every night of the week and where the air is filled with cooking smells from the zillion restaurants that have popped up along the High Street - yes, I am in a mood.

Anyway, my friend, who is more often than not the epitome of calm, was not quite her usual self.

It would appear that she and her lovable rescue dog have become the hot topic of some pretty spiteful gossip in the village.

In fact she has received an official letter, in which it states that the said dog has come under fire from several residents claiming he is dangerous.

"I know it all went wrong when he was castrated, he has started barking at other dogs, but I know he wouldn't maul them to death. I'm pretty sure of it," she said.

The dog at this moment was sitting on the Teen's lap, his paws around her neck, nuzzling into her.

"So what is he meant to have done?"

"He has been accused of running into a field barking and apparently I walk him on a very long lead and he walked into a shop."

"This is ridiculous. He is a rescue dog, you are not irresponsible and plus, the lead is only an inch long.

"I reckon its because he is a Staffie. Your little village probably think you and your foreign husband (he is Glaswegian and obviously I am being ironic) are gangsters, despite your jam and cake making efforts."

"I know. It's personal. But its hurtful nonetheless. The point is that nothing ever happens in this village and in the last two weeks or so we have had a couple of potentially very serious crimes that have happened here and I just can't believe these people are finding me and my dog more interesting."

Every cloud.

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