Anne Dickens | The Day After Yesterday

Blimey, I have had one of those days today. You know the ones; where everything seems to go wrong.

It had all started off innocuously enough. The sun was shining (what in the blazes is that yellow thing out there?!), and I decided to take Naughty George for his daily drag around the fields of Oxfordshire. It all was all going rather well. NG hadn't instigated a fight with any other dogs or barked at any toddlers, and I was feeling on top of the world - walking along in a jaunty fashion, listening to my iPod. Yeh man, I was properly getting into the groove..... (that's what youngsters say today isn't it?).

And then disaster struck. Without any warning, I suddenly went profoundly deaf in my left ear. To put it into context, I've suffered from slightly dodgy hearing for years, but going profoundly deaf in one ear was something else. 'That's it!' I thought to myself, 'my eardrum has finally popped!'

I stopped walking and floundered around a bit wondering what to do next. I mean, what are you supposed to do when your eardrum bursts? I decided to panic a bit (which involved me waving my arms in the air for a few seconds), and then continue with my walk - I mean there was nothing I could do until I saw a doctor.

After about fifteen minutes of hard hiking (and being slightly preoccupied by my loss of hearing), I reached the top of the hill which gives my village (Forest Hill) it's name, and suddenly noticed that Naughty George was missing. The bloody git. He had done a runner. And I only had fifteen minutes to find him because I had to pick Izzy up from school.

I ran back and forth like something out of a Benny Hill movie, and still Naughty George was not forthcoming. Eventually, once the fifteen minutes had elapsed, I concluded that I had to abandon the search and accept that NG had probably died alone and was lying in 2D glory on some road or other. It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially after going deaf.

Suddenly, just as it was looking like all hope was lost, my phone rang.

I put it up to my right ear (no flies on me!), and answered sadly, "hello?"

"Hi, it's Steve here," came the voice, "have you lost anything?"

"Yes, my hearing," I replied with meloncholy.

"How come you can answer this call then?" he asked perplexedly.

"Oh, it's because I've only gone profoundly deaf in my left ear," I said.

"Ahhh, ok... cool," he responded, before adding, "but have you lost anything else?"

"Yeh, my bloody dog."

"Well, on that front, I have some news for you," Steve answered, "I have just found the little git in my kitchen, on his hindlegs, trying to steal food from the worktops."

"But you live about a mile away from where I lost him," I added with incredulity, "and how did he get into your kitchen? You live in a flat for chrissake."

"I dunno," said Steve, "but please, can you just come and collect him? He has embarked upon a woofing volley which hasn't ceased for ten minutes, and the neighbours are complaining."  That's definitely my dog.

I ran down the hill, and into the village, and buzzed the buzzer for Steve's flat. As the door opened, I removed my earphones and was nearly bowled over by a woofing NG. He was alive! ermmmm ..... great.

And then a miracle happened! ....... My hearing returned! I could hear Naughty George's highly-pitched vacuous woofs in full technicolour glory!

"My hearing has come back!" I shouted to Steve with excitement.

Steve regarded the situation for a while before commenting, "are you sure there wasn't a fault with your earphones?" he said, unplugging them from my iPhone and testing them on his computer.

After several minutes, he turned to me and uttered, "you daft moose, the wires to your left earphone have worked themselves loose .... you were never deaf at all."



Ok yeh, I felt like a bit of a prick, but the euphoria of not being deaf, and finding my dog alive numbed the humiliation somewhat. Tomorrow is another day!