At least the dogs are happy

Last Sunday pictures circulated on social media of queues around the block at an ice cream parlour a few miles out in the sticks and of hundreds of bikers congregating at Devil’s Bridge in Kirkby Lonsdale.

What part of STAY IN YOUR HOUSES TO SLOW THE SPREAD OF A GLOBAL PANDEMIC didn’t you understand?

I get it, being stuck at home with your family is tough. The only time you all spend this much time together is on holiday and even then, with the sun shining and as much food and drink as you can stomach, you’re never more than one side-eye away from an apocalyptic row.

Now, as the coronavirus death toll snowballs every day, schools and universities are more or less shut and parents working from home, four days into lockdown and things are a little tense.

The only ones actively thriving in all this are family dogs. All of a sudden their owners are around all day and if people are only allowed out once a day to exercise, might as well take the pupper with you, yeah?

I don’t know about you, but after nearly 30 years in journalism, my hands (which have never seen a proper day’s work in their lives, according to some) were softer than a newborn’s feet.

Now, after scrubbing them at every opportunity while singing Happy Birthday twice, they look like they belong to a veteran North Sea trawlerman.

There’s no getting away from it, things are as bad as most of us can remember.

There’s a T-shirt doing the rounds which sums it up perfectly. It reads: I Don’t Like This Episode Of Black Mirror.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in 50 years on this planet it’s this – nothing is permanent.

If and when we get through this dystopian nightmare and the day lockdown ends and the bars, clubs and restaurants all open again, the country’s first night out in months will make the last days of Sodom look like an episode of Balamory.

Stay well, everybody.