There's a legend round these parts of a man named Sean who lives in the woods. He even has a facebook group dedicated to him. The stories go that he eats rabbits, squirrels and mushrooms, was once in the army, and is partial to rum. There are wilder claims about him too, but you know how these things spread and grow.
The stories remind me of Tammylan, the hermit in Enid Blyton's Children of Cherry Tree Farm. Try writing a children's story like that one today!
Anyway, there was Mrs M and I walking the dog through the woods yesterday evening, and the little wretch (the dog, not Mrs M) slipped through an otherwise impenetrable combination of thorn hedge and sheepwire fence into the field. And then couldn't find her way back.
This led to a lot of faffing about, with me trying to push though the thorns and stop the silly dog attempting to jump the fence, which would inevitably have ended up with her impaled on the barbed wire strand on the top.
And in the middle of all this, there's a rustle in the bushes and out pops - the legendary Sean, large as life, all red beard, tattooed arms and wiry tanned legs. Quick as a flash, he's over the fence, ripping his shorts on the barbed wire. Picks up the dog, passes her over, then skips back himself, ripping his shorts again.
We hardly had time to say 'Thank you' before he'd snatched up his water-bottle and gunny-sack and strode off down the path, with a cheerful 'Glad to help'.
A legend indeed.