There was an old timer sat on a bench on the canal the other day. He'd found himself a nice patch in the shining sun and was just about to spark up a fag. Had a bottle of beer by his side.
The dog went up to him and he had this relaxed manner about it which only seemed to interest the dog more.
I told him he had the right idea with his setup, and he said he was having just the one, then he was off home to have his pie, mash and peas. He really accentuated the way he said "peas" , as though it was a food of secret hidden delight.
And then he was stroking the dog and saying he had often thought of getting one, but that he didn't want to be "lumbered with love" and again, the way he said it was pure quality.