I have a problem. I take my dogs walking every day and often bring my hurley and a tennis ball with me. Some days I travel without these accoutrements but invariably Shyla, my short arsed retriever, finds a ball or even two. I often spot one myself - especially up Killiney Hill where hundreds of ball chasing dogs disport themselves. If I see a ball on the road leading up to Killiney Hill I will stop the car and get out an retrieve it. By these various strategems I have amassed a collection of nearly a hundred tennis balls. But I can't stop. I'm always on the look out for more. I got two extra ones today. Shyla found one and as I was leaving the Killiney Hill car park I saw another and got out of the car and fetched it. I had my iPhone in my hand and rested it on top of the car as I went over to the ball. I got back in and drove away. Back home I went to make a phone call and with an awful flash of lucid recollection I remembered laying it on the roof the car. Your blood actually does run cold in these situations. I jumped into the car and sped off in the direction of Killiney Hill - more in desperate hope than with any great optimism. There's so much traffic around there on a fine morning that if it hadn't been pinched then it had surely been crushed. But miraculously I was delivered from either of these evils. At the end of our cul-de-sac I spotted a dark object in the middle of the road. There it was - it must have fallen from the roof when I turned left off the main road. It was in perfect condition - thanks to its protective case.
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