Quite a lot of Paul's working life was devoted to pest control. In London, he had worked for Rentokil before doing the same in Saudi Arabia. Next he moved on to a much smaller Irish company, mostly working on farms or within commercial properties.
They had a contract with the famous brewers - Guinness. In one of the oldest parts of the brewery, pigeons were becoming an issue in the roof space. Paul's company had been brought in to get rid of them. The night before Paul had been up there laying poisonous bait. He had invited me to go back with him and had full official permission for the return visit.
That roof space was above a vast warehouse area that was now totally empty with just a couple of strip lights hanging from the high ceiling on chains. We had entered via a corner door and had to get fifty yards across to the opposite corner through which we took some creaky stairs up to the roof space.
All had been fine on the way in. We were up in the roof space collecting dead pigeons which we dropped into plastic sacks. I guess we collected around thirty pigeons that night. Then it was back down the stairs to the old warehouse space carrying our haul.
Ten yards from the exit door, the door in the opposite corner opened. We turned round to see the silhouette of a man - the night watchman. He yelled something and simultaneously released his guard dog - a bellowing Alsatian no doubt trained to bring down intruders.
It zoomed across the floor space like a cheetah. Paul and I dropped our pigeons and raced for the exit, managing to both get through the doorway as the baying hound's thudding claws scraped down the wood. It was a close escape. One second more and that bloodthirsty creature would have had my left leg in its jaws
Turns out that someone had forgotten to inform the nightwatchman of our visit. He was apologetic but of course it wasn't his fault. We were just happy to get away from there without being savaged. We picked up the pigeons and headed back to the suburbs.
The next morning the drive to Clare lay ahead of us and not an hour or two in an operating theatre. Confucius say - You cannot argue with a crazed guard dog when it is off its leash.
Gosh, that was a crazy adventure, Neil! Glad you and Paul got out safely!
ReplyDeleteWe laughed about it afterwards but at the time it was frightening.
DeleteI'm glad you escaped the dog's jaws and that the dog did not try to eat the poisoned birds. Paul sounds like a nice and very missed brother.
ReplyDeleteHe was talented in so many ways and much loved by many.
DeleteThat's an experience you don't want to have a gain.
ReplyDeleteBack then I could move much faster.
DeleteYou guys were lucky you weren't bitten. That's a lovely photo of your brother.
ReplyDeleteWe were in deed lucky. It was a close thing.
DeleteYikes!
ReplyDeleteJumpin Jehoshaphat!
DeletePhew! A close shave indeed. The watchman and the dog were doing their jobs, as were you… someone really should have told him.
ReplyDeleteWe were just so relieved to get out of there unscathed.
DeleteSo glad you managed to outrun the guard dog. I see Paul played violin, I quite like violin music, but not the "music" scraped out by children just learning enough to busk in the streets so they can get used to playing in public, most of them start out with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
ReplyDeletePaul could play many Irish jigs, reels and laments on his violin.
DeleteGood job you were both fast sprinters.
ReplyDeleteThat's a lovely photo of Paul.
He was sixty two at the time.
DeleteYou've certainly lived dangerously YP! A nice photo of Paul - you look very alike.
ReplyDeleteSame genes I guess (hope!).
DeleteIf the dog was well trained it wouldn't have savaged you, nobody wants a vet bill when their dog gets human germs :)
ReplyDeleteI had my heart in my mouth about the height of the roof space so that was some twist!
Did you think we were going to fall through the ceiling?
DeleteYes. Irrational but that's what fear is. I hate heights
DeleteIt would not be "A Long Way From Clare To Here" (Ralph McTell) with that Alsation chasing you.
ReplyDeleteNo. We would be in Ennistymon like an express train.
DeleteI used to have to walk past a car compound in Leeds where there were some guard dogs. They always growled through the wire fence at passers-by. Vicious and frightening.
ReplyDeleteAll they could see through their eyes was meat. You would have been rather salty - like ham.
DeleteEven if you were in the building for the wrong reasons, it was premature to release the dog without a warning. Paul and you look similar, but of course you are more handsome. (that could have gone the other way).
ReplyDeleteHe often berated me for being more handsome than him. He was like The Elephant Man but I was Clint Eastwood without his politics.
DeleteLifetimes of adventures and memories.
DeleteWow, I would have lost my lunch if that had happened to me. I am glad you could laugh about it later though. What an experience!
ReplyDeleteClint Eastwood or no, glad the Alsatian didn't get you, he was doing his job though, just that his handler was a bit premature.
ReplyDeleteWow, close call! A pint or two of Guiness afterward to soothe the nerves?
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like one of those "worst nights of my life" situations. I mean- the guard dog was horrible but picking up dead poisoned pigeons and putting them in sacks was pretty awful too.
ReplyDeleteThat is a beautiful photo of your brother.
The photo is sublime
ReplyDeleteI hope your family used it on the order of service
What a frightening experience! Apologies aside, the least they could have done was treat you to a pint (case) or two of beer.
ReplyDeleteI went to look up Alsatian and see that it's what I call a German Shepherd Dog. I was bitten in the neck by one of those as a toddler and it's my earliest memory. It took me years to get over the fear of that breed.
ReplyDeleteWell THAT sounds terrifying! Also terrifying to handle bags of dead pigeons. Ugh.
ReplyDelete