A Star in the Shire.

I was standing outside Sainsbury’s yesterday when somebody I recognised came out of the store. She’s a woman who lives in the Shire about half a mile from me in one of the old farmhouses. I’ve had a few brief, mostly perfunctory conversations with her down the years, but not enough to claim to know her.

What piqued my interest, however, was the fact that she looked at me but showed no sign of recognition. I’ve said often enough on the blog that I’m always surprised by the number of people who seem to know all about me even though I’ve never spoken to them. Yet here was somebody to whom I have spoken, but who clearly doesn’t remember me.

Is this a good thing, I wondered? Has she not heard of my reputation for being a bit strange at the very least, if not a denizen of some dark realm who luxuriates in the children of the night and the music they make? Is she the one person who will sit quietly at home while the assembled multitude drives me to the burning mill with pitchforks? To an incorrigible recluse like me, I suppose it is a good thing. And so I declined to be ignored and engaged her in conversation, a snippet of which revealed that she rescues animals.

‘What sort of animals?’ I enquired.

‘Dogs, cats, chickens, sheep, horses – we’ve got five of those.’

‘Must cost a fortune.’

‘It does.’

And then she told me of a few circumstances which gave rise to their rescue, such as the lamb which had been thrown over a hedge and couldn’t move because it was trapped among thorny brambles.

Well now, what does it take for someone to gain my approbation? A few things actually, but rescuing animals in distress would definitely vie for top spot. And so I will readily converse with her again if I should encounter her jogging around the Shire or taking a tribe of dogs for a walk. And maybe it will be less perfunctory next time. I like people who rescue animals.

It troubled me a little that she looked ill. She had grey patches under her eyes where most people develop bags as they age, and eyes are a good indicator of the state of a person’s physical or mental health. But maybe she’s just exhausted by the work of caring for numerous dogs, cats, chickens, sheep… and five horses.

(I couldn’t resist asking her whether she had a YouTube channel because YouTube is replete with animal rescue videos and I’m convinced a lot of them are fake. She said she didn’t. That helped, too.)