I tell you what, since I swapped my illustrious athletics career on the green fields of Walthamstow Dog Track for the mean streets on London I have seen some batshit crazy stuff. But today, this takes the dog biscuit.
Tonight started like any other. The flatmate (the shorter female version) comes home from wherever she goes during daylight hours. We go out for a walk. So far so normal. We take a new route, I'm always up for a bit of variety - new pee-mails to pick up, it is all good.
Suddenly she's ringing the bell of a strange house and we are careering up some stairs. There's a bloke at the top, who I swear I have never seen before in my life. But he seems to know me. He's all "Hello Moon, what a beautiful dog." Getting all in my face with his heavy patting. I mean come on, boundaries man, it isn't like I head straight for the crotch and get in about it for a good sniff. Well, ok, I do, but I'm a dog - I have an excuse.
The man, who for some reason reminded me of the vet that I occasionally get dragged to, tells the flatmate to strip down to her underwear and he'll be back in a moment.
Hang on a cotton picking minute. I won't claim to be the biggest expert in human relationships but I have a pretty strong hunch that she should be keeping her kit on in front of anyone who isn't the male flatmate. Still she covers her scanties with a blanket and I lie down and start to relax.
But no. The geezer comes back in the room. I'm up in a trice (I was always fast out of the trap).
And then, guys, you would not believe what happened then. He starts sticking pins in her. Pins! And she, she doesn't even flinch. It was like she was dead from the neck down, a charge I am sure I've heard the other flatmate levy at her of late. So I stick my cold, wet nose on a spare bit of flesh. But it is alright she can still feel something. Have you ever seen a grown woman levitate?
So this goes on for about an hour and all the while the two of them are jabbering on about women's things, periods, progesterone, emotions ... yadda, yadda, yadda. I relax back into sleep, drop an air biscuit (which for some reason is the source of great hilarity amongst the humans in the room) and start to gently snore.
It was alright. Weird. But alright. I might start coming to these acupuncture appointments on a more regular basis.