Richard Madeley The Otter

The blog might well go quiet for a couple of days. Bill Oddie has offered to teach me to tickle trout on his own private stretch of Scottish river. However, no harm will come to the fish. We’re only going up there to tickle them. Nothing more sinister than that and the sight of two middle aged men standing thigh high in cold water and stroking fish. Who knows, if the mood takes us, we might even stroke each other. I'm always up for having my stomach tickled.

I confess that I’m somewhat reluctant to go. The thing about Bill is that he loves his otters. Bill Oddie has seven otters. Each one is named after his closest friends and that includes me. Richard Madeley (the otter) is a ferocious little critter who has tasted human blood and clearly enjoys it. I’ve only handled him once and he took a quarter of an inch out of my thumb. Bill said it was being playful. I said that if I went around taking a quarter of an inch out of my guests, the show wouldn’t be the success it is on Watch. Actually, scrub that last remark. Perhaps I should start nipping the guests. It’s not as though I’m not tempted. The viewing figures might go up. And l like the headlines. ‘Madeley Savages Neil Morrissey.’ Might well get an OBE for that. Or perhaps a knighthood. If some bloke on a pushbike can get one, I don’t see why the nation’s most loved talk show host wouldn’t get one for turning feral.

So, please feel free to talk among yourselves until I come back on Friday, fresh from two days of avoiding Bill’s otters but tickling his trout.

The other bit of news I have for you is that since I’ve gone back to writing this blog myself (no more friends helping me out) I’ve discovered a new lust for life. I feel ten years younger and even the hair is growing back on my upper legs and thighs. Judy noticed it the other day when I was sitting on the sofa recoding the show. Hairs were poking through my nylon slacks. Can you believe it? A man my age and I’ve had to start shaving my kneecaps again!

That’s it. Bill is already here. I can hear him trying to sell Judy his collection of Wedgewood figurines of the great owls of the world. I better go before she buys the bloody things. If I can blog from Bill’s remote Scottish cottage, I’ll do so. Otherwise, I’ll see you Friday with many tales of trout well tickled.