This council has regulations regarding dog walking.
One of them is to take a plastic bag and pick up the poop.
So if you walk the dog all the way to the park and back past my house, why in the hell don't you keep going with the plastic bag to your house instead of propping the poop in the crook of the tree on my nature strip?
There are some who don't bother with the plastic bag but sneak out in the night to visit poop central. Once you could safely walk the footpaths with your eyes closed but not any more. And I worry about a dog that can't hold on long enough to reach the grass. Is it being dragged along without a pit stop?
We never had this problem and every house had a dog but it pooped inside the boundary and we buried it in a corner of the garden. Of course if you choose to live in an Australand shoe box, after a while you'd be pooped out of garden.
So it gets me thinking of 'Teh Olden Days". The days of dogs, horses and humans and outhouses and horse manure, dog poop and filthy footpaths and long sweeping skirts. The rich walked straight from the front door to the carriage. The rest walked along gathering crap like street sweepers and no holding up the skirt, not a glimpse of ankle or one was marked as not quite the lady. They did have dust ruffles sewn along the bottom of the skirt which was emptied like a dust buster or the lady's maid would remove the dirty ruffle and replace it with a clean one.
Well, you all know my mind enough by now to know that all I could think about on the way back from the coffee shop was dust ruffles full of dog poop. And don't get me started thinking about those damn deep treads in jogging shoes.
Spring is really here, daylight saving and my first cockroach in the junkmail.
And some sort of football ended.