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It was the talk of Walthamstow, the day that Harvey would finally meet Lola. People were rumoured to believe that there would be more passion in the room than beneath the covers in the big brother house. It would be the wedding of the year, a seven figure sum would be on the table for a picture of the first pup. Videos would be circling the internet of the first arse sniffing, some believed it would get more hits than 'One night in Paris.' Unfortunately, these reports were way off the mark, it was a game of cat and mouse all evening at Bridge End. Lola was indifferent to Harvey, and Harvey was indifferent to Lola. There were barks, nips and playing dead. Lola ate Harvey's food, Tom ate Lola's food. It was all a bit up in the air.
So the day kicked off relatively quietly in E8. Lola picked a somewhat Dickensian outfit for a day in the park. Teaming a white cravat with polka dot waistcoat, she looked elegant in the London rain. She was on her best behaviour, saving all her energy for the night ahead. At one point she ignored the flirtings of a six month old whippet. There was only one thing on her mind, Harvey, the pretty little King Charles Spaniel.
As the afternoon rain began to lighten and the sun slowly emerged from the clouds, Lola settled down on the picnic blanket in a mustard cardigan and flowery scarf. The contrast of monochrome neck piece and vibrant knitwear attracted the followers more so. A terrier was literally salivating at the mouth as he strolled by, a rough looking staff (from the towering estate yonder) bowled over and kissed his sharp teeth. Again, Lola was not impressed. Hackney boys just aren't her thing. She had a spot of lunch, stole some of my strawberry cheesecake and pilfered some wine, a little bit of dutch courage for the night's encounter.
Harvey welcomed Lola with a snarl, he was unimpressed. This was his territory. He had styled his beard and trimmed his hair, hoping this would be the beginning of a wonderful relationship. However, jealousy rippled through his bones. Being a cheeky bitch, Lola ran through the house, pissed on his lawn and nipped at his ears. Harvey retreated to the arms of his owners and proceeded to sleep the evening away. Any friendship formed would be on his terms, and his terms only.
Jason Barra, not wanting to be outdone by the lovely people of Southend, donned socks and sandals for the occasion. Add a pair of grey, Nike tracksuit bottoms and we have the style of a true Walthamstow boy. Harvey seemed embarrassed to be seen with his owner, and at one point tried to bolt it out the front door. Harvey was beginning to like Lola and her quirky ways and didn't want to be shown up by his landlord.
There was much dancing and merriment to be had at the Barra's. Lola did a jig, Harvey bum surfed and Steve had a fit. The evening was running very smoothly indeed. Everyone was talking about the sexual chemistry between Lola and Harvey. They just couldn't leave each other alone. Lola tried to mount Harvey, Harvey was playing hard to get; the OK! magazine deal was on. This was going to be bigger than Katie and Alex. A fly on the wall documentary was on the cards.
So I had a chat with Harvey, asked what he thought of my bitch. It was all positive. He thought she was pretty, had just enough junk in the trunk and had nice dog breath. He wants to meet her again. And Lola, well she'll hump anything. But there is some bad news, Harvey's had his balls chopped off and Lola's been spayed, so there won't be the pitter patter of tiny paws.
And the last word went to Mr Barra. He warned me that if Lola ever fucks around behind Harvey's back, he'll hunt me down and put a bullet in my head. But don't worry about me cos I've already put in a complaint to the fashion police.
Spare change guv'ner?
