My advantages were size and speed.
They were bigger and longer limbed.
But I could fit under the hedge. In fact I could speed off through the hole in the hedge without slowing.
By the time my pursuers had left the back garden and gone round to next door, I was out of that garden, under the next hedge, and the next one, the next one, the next one, all the way to the end of the row.
In my pyjamas of course. And maybe a dressing gown.
I can’t remember what the neighbours made of my lightning visits, but they put a smile on my face.
What happened? Why did they stop? I can’t remember.
The hedge grew? I grew? (Shouldn’t really be a question mark there.) We moved? (Perhaps to escape exasperated neighbours.)
It’s about time I did more running. I can’t fit under the hedges anymore, but I might be able to hoke out a dressing gown to run in
(If you’ve managed to find your way this far, you can continue on to the rest of the Loose Bloggers Consortium who are also posting on the topic in the title. Scroll down the right hand side of the screen and you find their links listed.)