At the age of 4 or 5, so it would have been about 1945, we were living in a flat at the United Dairy in Addlestone, Surrey. My Father, Thomas Patton, was filling in at the Walton-on-Thames branch and he would take me over there at weekends. We'd go on the bus as we didn't have a car.
He was a milkman and drove a horse and cart. The first part of his route went through the High Street at Walton. At the farthest end from the dairy there was Burton's the tailors and above that was a restaurant where my Dad would deliver a crate of milk. He would take me up there and I would have a glass of milk and a jam doughnut as a treat.
One day I went back down and got on the cart, and off set the horse! Dad was still upstairs collecting the money but the horse knew the round so well, he would walk on as soon as someone stepped on board! He walked on to the next stop, which was the clothing shop round the corner, where Dad caught us up.
We'd be given a sandwich at midday and that was it. At the end of the round all Dad had to say to the horse was 'home boy' and he knew the route back. We would go back to Addlestone on the bus then I would go and watch blind Charlie making shoes for the horses at the dairy where we lived.
I thought the world of Charlie - he was always willing to talk - and he was completely blind, but always walked to work. You would only have to tell him the name of the horse and he could walk straight to its stall.
Once a horse was kicking up; Charlie walked in, picked up a hobble (used to tie horses legs together) from the wall, walked straight into the horses stall, slapped it's behind and tied up its legs. I would spend hours watching Charlie.
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