Over the last couple of weeks, we’ve been trying to contact the police. This is not an insignificant task – the waiting time on 101 can be up to an hour and response times are measured in days rather than hours. The PCSO is unobtainable and the police station is closed to the public. Oh for the days when you could slip a sixpence to a small boy and tell him to “run for a constable”.
When I finally did catch up with the police, they were present in large numbers, including several on horseback. Unfortunately, they were nowhere near the Thames Valley.
Silly us. Instead of wittering on about drug deals and threatening behaviour, we should have explained that there was an obstruction preventing urgent deliveries of oats, doggy treats and donuts. Problem solved.