Today arrived like a normal dog-walking day… until it didn’t.

I pulled up to a client’s house, clipped the dogs into leads, and prepared myself for a standard walk. Nothing could have prepared me for what I walked into.

The kitchen. Gigantic. Gleaming. Modern. And full of about fifteen 20-year-old rugby players… completely naked parading around the glass balustrade above.

Not just a casual “one or two forgot their clothes” kind of naked. Full parade mode, strolling, bouncing, and somehow treating the massive glass balcony as a catwalk for maximum visibility. I paused mid-step, lead in hand, coffee still in my thermos (thankfully), and my brain did that brief flailing thing where it refuses to comprehend reality.

The boy who lived there eventually noticed me staring from below. “We’ll be out of the way soon,” he shouted down, voice cheerful and entirely oblivious to the fact that I was standing there, eyes firmly glued to the floor, clutching three leads and one scruffy mongrel who clearly judged everything.

“And… uh… when I get back?” I asked, voice bemused slightly.

“They’ll be gone,” he said casually. “Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry? I was watching an entire rugby team practicing the human equivalent of a marching band, bouncing against glass with zero awareness or care, including one unfortunate soul whose “todger” seemed perfectly content to demonstrate physics against the balcony like some kind of horror-comedy prop.

I did my best to remain professional, herding dogs as though nothing unusual was happening. Every time one of the rugby players made a particularly enthusiastic gesture against the glass, my brain filed it under “Absolutely Not Safe for Work OR Sanity.”

Eventually, they disappeared into the rooms above, leaving me blinking, slightly traumatised, and clutching three dogs who clearly didn’t care about the scene but sensed the chaos. I muttered to myself: Well, that’s one for the diary.

Diary note: Tuesdays are unpredictable. Dogs may pull. Puddles may appear. And occasionally, naked rugby teams may remind you why personal boundaries exist.