Rocky has a clock inside his head which tells him that it is time for his morning, afternoon, and evening walk; or that it is time for his evening meal. If I am engrossed on my computer, he wanders into the study puts his paws on the chair arm and shoves his face into mine and gives me a gentle reminder, just in case I have forgotten his needs. This afternoon I could see him start to get excited when I switched off the computer. I tell him, "sorry Rock, I know it's time, but I have to go and see my Probation Officer. Later, later". He mithers me a bit, and goes and touches the lead, hanging up on a hook on the wall in the hallway, with his nose. And, I have to apologise again, and shake my head, and he walks off upstairs to his bedroom to sulk. I look up and see his sad face. As I walk out of the front door and lock it and walk away, I turn my head and see that he is watching me through the window above the door. He hates to be separated from me, and has been like this ever since I got him from the animal rescue centre.
My appointment is for 2.30, and I walk into the city centre, allowing myself enough time for a last cigarette before I go in. As I turned into Liberty Lane, a jam sandwich, using "blues and twos" screeched around the corner and pulled up outside of Liberty House, and two policemen rushed into the Humberside Probation Service office. I go in at 2.25 and inform the receptionist who I am and who I have come to see. I sit down and wait. And, wait, and wait and and wait, but he don't come. Fifteen minutes later, my mobile phone rings. It wasn't John Reid texting me, but my Probation Officer asking me if I was on my way. I explained that I was already here and waiting, in the waiting room, as you do.
Just before he card swiped me through into the offices area, the two policemen came out, with a Probation Officer, and she explained to the receptionist that "there's been a bit of a barney". He apologised, and said that there had been a communication breakdown, and that he had only just been informed that I was here as he was on his way to let me through. This does not surprise me. He introduced me to the Probation Officer who is soon going to take over responsibility for my supervision in the community. I have forgotten her name already. She asks me to tell her about myself, and I shrug and say that there is nothing to tell. My mind was preoccupied with Rocky and his delayed walk. So, my Probation Officer gives her and edited version. Obviously, there was a need to be brief, the story takes too long and we were running out of time. But, the too edited version skipped over the cock up by his predecessor which landed me back in custody. He had paid too much attention to unsubstantiated allegations.
There was a general discussion, and the subject of blogging came up. And, then he told me that he had been contacted by someone who claimed that I had broken the law and cited the Malicious Communications Act (1988). I asked him what action he had taken, and he said that he informed the informant to make a statement to the police. He added, that he had also sought advice from his superiors. When I got back home, first things first, I took Rocky for his belated walk in the little park at the back of the house. I was concerned to see four syringes laying just beneath a bush. It reminded me of the times that someone has said "you'll only feel a little prick", in my case they were wrong. Then my mind turned to the informant and what he must be feeling. When I got back in I phoned my solicitor and explained the situation and gave him my instructions how to proceed.
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