It reminds me how much we take for granted when we are able-bodied and independent.
When Mr H. was here it was no problem of course, but now I don't have that spontaneity; if I need to go anywhere then I have to find someone to drive me. Thankfully, it's surprising how little I actually need to go out, or want to - I am becoming a bit of a recluse! Huddled in my little house with my dog and computer and books - and PG Tips - there is little else I need. But every now and then I do have needs (no, not that sort); for instance if I did decide to take Django to the vet. It's only around the corner but it's far enough to be a bit of an issue to walk, especially with a dog that insists on walking in front because Pointers don't consider heelwork to be a necessity in life.
During the week most of my friends, totally inconsiderately I might add, go to work; and if they aren't working they are busy Having a Life. I would ask my parents but they are away for a month (and yes, I know that before they went I was quite relieved at the prospect of a month's respite from Feeling Obliged). The friend who took him for the walk offered to give me a lift, as she is at home all day with a baby; but then called me to say her husband had just been taken to hospital after a rugby-playing accident, so of course now we are worrying more about him than some measly dog-leg cut.
That got me thinking who I would ask in this theoretical situation? and I came to the conclusion that I'd have to ask my boss to let one of my colleagues out of the office for an hour. But all in all, the hassle of it is just one more reason not to go.
I don't want to have to resort to asking Douglas to take me in his A35