Words by John Locke
I used to bump into Anthony H Wilson every few days when I lived in Castlefield in Manchester whilst he was walking his Weimaraner.
I would usually stop for a quick exchange or say a passing ‘Hello Tony’.
Sometimes we would chat about the dog, sometimes about music, or life, or a polite ‘How’s things?’ followed by a ‘Good thank you’.
The defining factor was the mad fucking dog.This dog was not the most stable Weimaraner I’ve ever met .Pretty frisky, bit mouthy, very jumpy uppy.
One day when we bumped into each other and we were having a slightly lengthier chat, his dog decided to jump up on me and land his paws all over me, knocking me backwards.
Tony apologised and said rather quickly ‘Anyway must be off darling’.
I think he said ‘Darling’ as he could never remember my name, and why should he, the amount of time he must have spent chatting nonsense to slightly awe struck idiots like me was probably painful.
Anyways… I walked back to work and glanced down at my newly purchased black, high neck, very ‘Manchester’ coat and it was covered in goose shit.
I was well pissed off.
That dog hated me…I wasn’t sure Tony liked me that much either!
A while later I organised a closing and thank you party for the City Life magazine which was sadly and fairly shoddily closed by the MEN.The event was at The Comedy Store where I worked at the time.
We asked Anthony H to say a few words at the closing of the evenings events, which he very graciously did.
During our conversation he asked if he could bring the dog… I answered ‘Of course, but if it walks shit everywhere you are paying the cleaning bill!’
To which Anthony H replied ‘Of course darling! By the way – How is the coat?’