Till My Feet Hurt

I wish we could have brought the dog.

We're at our local Carol Service singing 'In The Bleak Midwinter' and he's locked in Cristina's garden. Banished and alone during this glorious neighbourhood hour. Max. Maxi. "Here's a canine treat but don't tell anyone Mister Max. It's our secret".

Our neighbour is away for a week and he's more than happy without me, I know that. His garden is huge and he's half-bear anyway. A rescue dog from Romania, he loves being outside in his natural habitat.

"That's not strictly true", I want to say, halfway through the Christmas story. "Women weren't counted in the census back then so Mary didn't need to go. And Herod would have been happy to receive an 'extenuating circumstances' letter from Joseph, explaining why he didn't want to travel himself, because then he would have the engaged couple's address and know exactly where Jesus was going to be born. No need for the wise men to go all that way to snitch on them. And they'd have made a considerable saving on gold, frankincense and myrrh. Whatever that is. Sounds expensive anyway."

Never again

Never again

I wear it on my T-shirt

Never again

Never again

I'm marching till my feet hurt

I'm not a Christian but one year the musical genius who is Mark Hinton Stewart, choir master extraordinaire, invited me to drum with the band. It remains one of the ten fave gigs of my life. This service is all about harmony and rhythm.

Never again

Never again

We shout it in the streets

Never again

Never again

We whisper in retreats

The vicar, a likably earnest young man, is keen to bring the story into the present and indirectly references the war. "And for those who Christmas isn't a happy time this year, may the Lord Jesus draw ever closer to them and comfort them with his love".

I've never had a dog. We had rabbits, guinea pigs and cats in Saltdean but no animals that needed regular walks, and long walks at that. Not that Mister Max is an animal, dogs soon become people don't they? I'm amazed to be honest.

Never again

Never again

The international trend

Never again

Never again

Let's harmonise my friend

There is such a good, true, trusting vibe in the church tonight. There is a sense that, at least in this 'Little Town Of Isleworth', we might be able to keep the good news alive.

Dawn and I eschew the mince pies and mulled wine and rush off to collect Max for his late-night walk. My beautiful wife has a story to prepare for an upcoming gig so we part at Cristina's door while I fiddle with the alarm system. "See you soon", I say, rather unconfidently.

"Come on Mister Max." Max is going crazy seeing we're going for another walk, avoiding having his lead put on in a somewhat counter-intuitive fashion. "Listen to this Maxi. During the service I had an idea for a chant because, to be honest, it was a bit like '1984' and 'Brave New World' combined. Doublethink. The Ministry of Peace being the Ministry of War. You know the sort of thing". He nods, humouring me while staring intently at my pocket where I keep the treats.

"But a carol service is no place for Lefty politics. Let's have a night off, eh Maxi? Hey, you know the sound of the old trains, when they used to weld the sections of track together?"

"Woof!" (translation "Treats!")

"Those rails were all the same length so whenever the driver 'picked up steam', so to speak, there'd be this warm and soothing rhythm. Da-dum-da-dum. Da-dum-da-dum. You sing that bit Max and I'll do the chant."

"Woof!" (translation "OK, but, come on. Treats!")

"Never again

Never again

I wear it on my T-shirt

Never again

Never again

I'm marching till my feet hurt

Never again

Never again

The international trend

Never again

Never again

Let's harmonise my friend

"That's it. OK Maxi, let's trot".

Never again

Never again

Never again

Never again

Never again

Never again

Never again

Never again

(Note. We take him back to his own garden sometimes, to maintain his sense of wellbeing and balance, but Max is living with us in our house while Cristina is away. He has pretty much taken over the running of the place which we don't mind at all. Happy Christmas.)