Shame the dog

It was a couple of years ago on a holiday in Greece when I first became acquainted with shame the dog. A friend and I had got substantially inebriated and thrown ourselves in the swimming pool with wild abandon… naked.

So horrified were we by our actions the next day, that we awoke at 7 in the morning, unable to sleep for cringing and decided to go down to the local village and buy breakfast for everyone. At the time this seemed a suitable form of penance for our random act of naturism and we hoped that perhaps if we came back bearing fry up materials everyone would forget that they had seen us in the buff.

As we ambled down the hill we heard a gruff woof behind us. An enormous, smelly labrador came lolloping up behind us…

Lizzie: “Oh hell, its our shame”

Me: “What”

Lizzie: “Our shame has taken on animal form in this dog…look! It loves us!” Somewhat concerned for Lizzie’s mental state and equally eager to evade the pungent beast that was our shame, we ducked into the nearest supermarket and began our search for redemption. Unfortunately, we were in Greece, and there is no ban on stinking labradors in supermarkets. Shame was following us like a shadow.

In a desperate bid for freedom from Shame and his stench we pelted towards the sea, hoping to outwit the wily beast…of course dogs can swim. I was now at risk from actual death by Shame as his labrador form thrashed about, trying to play some horrible form of dunking game. We dragged ourselves to shore and sat gasping on some sun loungers, waiting for shame to bound out after us.

He began his pursuit but suddenly, stopped in his tracks. A swarm of bees had gathered above him and were circling his head. AHA! I thought, we have finally thwarted him, shame is not following us home!

How wrong I was, as we began our return to our villa we stopped, turned and watched as shame casually ate, chewed and swallowed each bee, before following us all the way back to the scene of the crime.