I was born to drive. If I’m not inebriated and okay to sit behind a wheel, I will drive anywhere.

I’ll drive for two hours to visit a few bars in Newcastle just as readily as I will drive 20 metres around the corner to pick up some toilet roll at the shop.

No, I’m not lazy – I’m just passionate about taking my metal, blue dog or Colin, as he’s known to the family, out for some exercise.

As an automobile enthusiast my natural enemy is the pedestrian.

Man, I can’t stand them, doing all that walking about on their stupid legs in their stupid shoes.

I’m also partial to a bit of ranting and raving at cyclists, but that’s another story for another time.

Just like any other sane person with petrol flowing through their veins and a desire to underutilise their lower limbs, I pity those who are forced to walk and scoff at those who choose to.

At a zebra crossing the driver facing Colin and I will exchange a look, a look that says ‘Yeah, I see them, wearing down their Hi-Techs while we toast our cheeks on the heated seat… the fools.’

It’s a club that I never wanted to be booted out of.

Before you all start panicking, Colin is fine.

I, on the other hand, am not so fine and it’s all thanks to stupid walking.

The reason I’m now sporting an array of unsightly blisters that resemble the bad guy’s face from Robocop is because I was forced to walk my relative’s dogs.

Apparently, they loved going away for the weekend more than they loved my once pristine and baby-soft tootsies.

Because the universe hates me, it was inevitable that any stroll I embarked upon was going to be accompanied by rain, tsunami or hurricane.

I watched as my once loving, car-driving brethren shook their heads at me in pity… their lovely dry heads.

Even the three dogs gazed up at me as if to question why I would take them out in rain.

The wind was so cold that it defied the laws of science and actually burnt your flesh.

It was cruelty on my part and the universe just laughed.

I should have just sat in the car and let them wander out as far as the extender leads would let them.

Then they could have been home and tucking into the Chinese I bought them.

Desperate to get home we reached the last road that it was necessary to cross.

It was at this point that doggy A decided it needed to do its business.

Doggy B saw this as an opportunity to do a Steve McQueen and attempt to escape across the road, closely followed by a now much lighter dog A.

Dog C was still chilling at this point so I found myself spread-eagled in the road.

It was like a medieval rack, minus the chains and plus wet dogs.

A bus was forced to brake and wait for me.

I hung my head in shame.

I was no longer a driver. I was a pedestrian, and an awful one at that.

Beeping his horn the bus driver was all fury and I wasn’t going anywhere fast, especially when dog C decided to show the driver what she thought of him, right in front of his bus, if you know what I mean.

Now I’ll happily go walkies with my little bouncer, doggy C.

We usually take the car, mind you.

But never the bus.