Suspicion and Distraction.

There were three charity collectors in the town today, each having a bucket with the name of some children’s charity on it. They didn’t look right. The two men looked rougher than a Dowager Empress’s tongue, and the woman was too big for her clothes but had a mouth too small for the amount of food she was trying to cram into it. I felt suspicious.

But they had the ultimate pulling facility, the one thing just about guaranteed to draw everybody in and distract them from taking too much notice of the accompanying humans: they had Shetland Ponies. Shetland Ponies have to be the cutest thing on four legs – or three or two or five, come to that. Everybody adores the little guys – especially the denizens of the advertising world who love to exploit the fact – because they are unquestionably adorable.

 

So were the collectors genuine or not? I don’t know, and that’s always the problem. As it happened, they were getting scant attention anyway because most passers by were hurrying to the next shop or back to the car to escape the biting wind and frequent showers of rain, sleet and snow. I was one of them, and I followed my instinct.