(Early evening.  A man comes into the living room and looks around, calling his dog’s name.)

Man:  Richie!  Richie?

(His dog comes running in.)

His Dog:  Yes, Master!

Man:  Ah, Richie, here you are!  Where have you been?

HD:  I was at the gate watching a delivery man making a round in the neighbourhood.

Man:  Were you?  Good.  I was about to ask you if you saw a delivery man.

HD:  Yes, I did, Master, as I said.  He just finished his deliveries and jumped in his van to leave.

Man:  Did he?  Hmmm….  Did he ever show any sign of coming here to this address, I wonder?

HD:  No, Master.  He delivered a small package to the house across the road, and another box to a flat next to it.  No delivery to this side of the road today.

Man:  Hmmm….  Strange.  I have been expecting a parcel.  Should have come by now.  Actually, I checked on the website and it said it was delivered….  Hey, Richie, you are not playing a game with me, I hope?  You have not hidden my parcel to challenge me?

HD:  Oh, God, of course not!  I have better things to do, Master, definitely!  I wish you had known that!

Man:  Yes, of course, you have.  Sorry, Richie.

HD:  What is the matter, Master?

M:  Well, I made an online purchase last week and the order should have arrived by now.  When I tracked it online ten minutes ago, the site actually said it was delivered today.

(The man’s telephone rang.  He answered it.)

M:  Hello, hi, Sis…fine, thank you, and you?  …Great.  Ah, yes, thank you.  …No, not yet.  Have you?  …Well, maybe tomorrow, I guess.  Yeah, I’ll tell you when I get it.  Thanks.  Bye, for now.

HD:  Your sister?

M:  Yes, she said she has sent me a birthday card.  Good girl.  It is my birthday tomorrow, you know.

HD:  Yes, Master!  We are having a big celebration!  I am looking forward to the special dinner!

By the way, Master, when did your sister say she posted the card to you, I wonder…?

M:  What?  Ah, she said she posted it a few days ago, and it was by first class.  That was why she thought I had already got it.  Unfortunately, first class mail does not always come fast in this country, you know, Richie.

HD:  No…I know that.  Sometimes second class mail arrives quicker than that of first.

M:  Exactly.  That is the reality in Britain, I am afraid.

HD:  Yes…of course…but….

M:  But, what, Richie?  Have you something to say?

HD:  I should like to remind you, Master, if I may….

M:  Yes…?

HD:  Your online order should have arrived by now, too.

M:  Yes.  …Oh, no, Richie.  No, these are completely different!  My order is from an online shop and my sister sent her card by post.

HD:  But both should have been here by now, which is not the case.

M:  Well…?!

HD:  Your order was placed last week, and the online tracking says it was already delivered.  Your sister sent her card few days ago by first class, and that is from within London….  Many online retailers use Royal Mail for delivery as far as I know.  You have not received either of these yet.

M:  Well, no….  Richie, are you saying…

HD:  Smells bad to me.

M:  Do you think they were lost on their way?

HD:  Probably.  In fact, it smells fishier than that to me, if you permit me, to be honest.

M:  Does it…?

HD:  You can trust canine nose, or the sixth sense, if you like to call it.  Particularly that of the intelligent one.

(The man’s phone rang again.  He answered it.)

M:  Hello.  Hi, again, Sis, what‘s up now?  What?  Has she?  Wow, that is very kind of her.  Yes, something special.  Yeah, yeah.  Oh, I look forward to that!  …No, not yet.  Did she?  Well, no, I am afraid.  …But don’t tell her.  Yes, it will come tomorrow. Yeah, I’m sure.  Bye.

(The man hung up and turned to his dog, with a serious expression on his face.  The dog twitches his nose.)

M:  Richie….  My elderly aunt, who has been unwell for some time, hand-knitted a jumper for me specifically as a birthday present.  She did it despite her ill health.  According to my sister, she said it would most likely to be her last handmade gift to me.  And she said she asked my sister to post it 3 days ago….

HD:  …Oh, no…!

M:  Well, Richie, …let us see.  I know you are almost always right.  But this time I very much hope you are not.  Who knows?  They may all come tomorrow.  All 3 of them together!

HD:  I do hope so, Master.

 

 

(The following day.  The man and his dog had a special dinner together to celebrate his birthday.  They enjoyed the home cooked meal but the celebration was somewhat subdued this year.  It was not because the day was in the middle of a working week but because none of the things they were expecting has arrived.)

M:  Richie, I telephoned the online shop’s customer service and they believed what I said, thankfully.  They assume the item is lost.  They are going to send me another one.

HD:  That is good.  Better, shall I say….

M:  Yes, Richie….

M & HD:  (At the same time) But…!

M:  Richie, I cannot tell my poor aunt that her very special present is lost on its way….

HD:  No, you cannot.  You do not have to, Master.

M:  No.  But why?  Oh, why on earth did this happen on this very day of the year?  Why?

(The man fell silent and remained so for quite a while.  Deep in thought.)

HD:  (Suddenly in a loud voice) Cheerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrup!!

(Surprised, the man came back to senses.)

M:  Thank you, Richie…for your great big cheer, literally.

Anyway, have you heard any doorbell or a knock on the door, by any chance today?

HD:  Sadly, no, Master.

M:  Nor have I.  I will just go and check the letter box once again in case my sister’s card is stuck there…or maybe some other letter.

(The man went out of the room.  He did not come back for a while.  His dog walked to the front door to see what his master was doing.)

(The man did have a letter in his hand and was reading it.)

HD:  (Anxiously) You have got a letter, Master.  But it does not look like your sister’s card….

(The man did not answer.  He kept staring at the letter intensely, his face becoming redder and redder.)

HD:  (Very anxiously) What is the letter, Master?  Who is it from?  What does it say?

(The man’s hand which held the letter was trembling now.  He looked clearly upset.)

M:  Whaaaaaaaat???  This is a joke, Richie!  I cannot believe this…!

Listen, Richie.  A letter from Royal Mail.

Dear Customer, it says.  Loss of mail resulting from alleged theft in your area, is the title.  Then it goes.  I regret to inform you that an alleged theft took place…from a Royal Mail employee engaged in delivering mail to addresses in your area.  Royal Mail takes the problem of theft very seriously, bluh, bluh, bluh…has contacted the Police and we will co-operate fully with any investigation they may conduct.  Every effort is being made to recover any stolen mail items,…In the meantime, I am writing to offer my sincere apologies for any inconvenience resulting from this theft…

Can you believe this, Richie?  Can you…???

HD:  Good gracious…!

M:  And here they say, You may wish to consider making contact with any expected correspondents, to inform them of this incident so that they may make alternative arrangements…  How dare they say this…!!  It should not be “any expected correspondents”, but should be they who should make alternative arrangements, shouldn’t it?

HD:  ….

(His dog was lost for words.  He just opened his mouth and eyes widely, looking at his angry master.)

M: No mention of any form of compensation here!  And it is a printed-out copy.  Without even a signature.  No addressee’s name either!  It is not addressed to me personally.  Just addressed as Dear Customer, in other words, everyone concerned in general.  And it did not even come in an envelope!!

Rude, Richie, this is rude!  Not at all good enough!!  Do they seriously think this impersonal, stock letter is all they can do on such an occasion?  Is this really sufficient as a proper apology?

(His dog shook his head.)

M:  We, both senders and receivers, all trust them and pay for their service, expecting, naturally and quite rightly, a safe and prompt delivery each time.  And they charge you a lot, too!  Then they have lost multiple items and just this…!!??

HD:  Arrogant.

M:  Exactly.  That is the word!

HD:  Shameless…I must say.  Is that all, Master?  Are there any instructions how to claim compensation or at least make a complaint?

M:  Well, let me see….

HD:  They are usually at the end of letter, Master.

M:  Well, yes…ah, here we are…a sort of….  If you, or your correspondents, have any queries relating to his incident, our Customer Service Centre will be able to offer assistance…and the phone number.

HD:  Great.  Why not call them, Master?

M:  All right.  I will call them first thing tomorrow morning.

 

 

(The following morning.  The man was on the phone for a long time.  He could not help shouting once or twice, though trying his best to stay calm.  Eventually, he finished his call and hung up.)

HD:  Well, any better, Master?  Will they try returning your lost property?

(The man looked at his dog, indignantly but forlornly, with total disbelief on his face.)

M:  No, Richie, no.  It is hopeless.  They cannot or will not, perhaps, do anything.  The call was a complete waste of time and energy.

HD:  But the number was given to you to offer some help.  Was it not?  What did they say?

M:  What they said was, astonishingly, that the incidents like this were not unusual.  They happen from time to time.  We just have to move on, they said.

HD:  Gosh!

M:  There is nothing they can do.  The things were stolen and most were likely to be already thrown away, particularly the letters and cards without any cash enclosed, or sold if the item had any value.  No way of recovering them at all.  Even if they should find any of them, which is extremely unlikely from their past experience, which was not inconsiderable, that was their words, they would certainly be the most important evidence that the police would keep.

HD:  But have they caught the culprit?  What happened to the thief?

M:  They cannot tell me that because it is personal information.

HD:  What?  They mean to protect the criminal?

M:  It seemed like that.

HD:  Can you not claim compensation?

M:  No, I cannot.  According to them, the only person who could claim compensation was the sender, not the prospective recipient.  Because the sender paid for the service.  I cannot tell my poor aunt, Richie, that her precious handmade jumper was stolen and ask her to make a claim.  It is out of question, you know.

HD:  You are right, Master.

M:  The things I bought online are OK.  The shop will send me replacements.  But in my opinion, even this should not be done by the seller, it should be Post Office who should replace them.  It is their responsibility.

HD:  Quite true.

M:  Anyway, my sister’s card…well, I feel sorry but I can tell her and we can try to forget about it.  But my aunt’s hand-knitted jumper…nothing can replace it really.  It is irreplaceable.  It is her labour of love.  From her heart.  I told them that one of the lost items was a present from my elderly aunt, who hand-knitted it whilst in hospital.  They were not interested.  They just tried to finish the conversation as quick as possible.

(The man fell silent again, looking empty and miserable.)

HD:  (Suddenly in a loud voice) Cheerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrup!!

(The man blinked and straightened himself.)

M:  Thank you, Richie….

HD:  And was that it?  Did they say nothing else?

M:  Well, yes.  They said there was good news, nonetheless.

HD:  Oh, what was that?

M:  They were pleased to tell me that the culprit was gone.  No longer with Royal Mail.  Therefore, they were perfectly sure there would be no more theft by this same person again.

HD:  …!!

M:  I asked them once more if there was any chance of the return of the items in future, after the police investigation finished, for example.  They simply said, no.  Sorry but please move on, was the only thing they would say.  I asked once again how the Police were doing.  They repeated that they could not tell me because it was personal information.

(The man looked at the floor, trying to contain his emotions.)

HD:  (Again, in a very loud voice) Cheerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrup!!

(Again, the man blinked and came back to himself.)

M:  Thank you, Richie….  You are a good boy.

HD:  May I ask you then, Master, what was the point of giving them a call?  For what purpose did they give you this telephone number?

M:  That, Richie, was a waste of time and energy, as I have told you.  For them it was just a going through the motions, nothing else.

HD:  What a disgrace!  This is appalling.

Probably, they cannot afford to spend much time on each case, I suppose.  If these crimes are rather usual occurrences as they say, they must have loads of cases to deal with.

M:  Oh, yes, you are right, Richie.

HD:  And of course all you have to do now is smile, Master.  Then it is you who are the winner, in my opinion.

M:  What?  Why?

HD:  The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief, Master.

M:  Gosh, Richie!  That is Shakespeare!

HD:  Oh, is it?  All I know is this was uttered by some noblemutt, sorry, nobleman.  He even added, He robs himself that spends a barkless grief.

M:  Bootless, Richie.  Bootless grief, that is.  Otherwise, remarkable!  You are really a genius, Richie.

HD:  Thank you, Master, for the compliment.  But, you know, we canines do not wear boots.

M:  ….