Walking the Dog

in storytime •  7 years ago  (edited)

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Dogs are great, they’re a friend for life, they’ll love you unconditionally and will stay by your side .

Walking your dog is one of the things that is important in a dogs life, you and them exploring the world as their nose goes into overload picking up all the scents around them.

Now I haven’t got a dog, but when my friend’s dogs see me they go crazy, I’m definitely a dog person , cats I’m not that fussed about , because they’re not bothered with me which is good as I’m allergic, and also the thought of a cat chewing my lips off if I ever were to die kind of grosses me out.

So where am I going with this post?

Years ago I went to visit my friends gallery, his dog was running around all over the place and needed to get out of there , so I volunteered to take the dog for a walk ( let’s call her Molly , as I’ve forgotten her name) , I’d had a dog before , I could do that, it’s not a problem, picking up poo? That’s easy.

My friend handed me a screwed up bag and I popped it in my pocket, we were ready to go.

As I walked down the street , people would smile at Molly and I , to which I’d smile back and molly would ignore as she was more focused on the patch of grass we were heading to.

When we arrived Molly politely sat and did a pee, we took a few more steps and then she dropped a poopy package off. Lucky I’ve got my bag in my pocket, so all I’ve got to do is pop the bag on my hand, reach down pick it up then pop it in the bin.

I reach into my pocket, I pull out the bag only to discover it’s a bag for a baguette , a bloody baguette bag! The type that’s half paper , half clear plastic , the ones that are used to house a long thin stick of bread! My heart sinks as I place the bag on my hand, the tightness traps my thumbs like a soldier standing to attention. I have no grip, I reach down and basically smear dog doo into the grass , releasing it’s smell the odour making me heave, my eyes are watering ,I stand there all six foot two of me retching as a tiny dog stares at me confused.

I walk towards a bin bleary eyed, with bag tightly sealed on my hand holding my poo covered stump away from noses reach. there’s a picture of a dog on the side of the bin, what does it mean? Do put dog dirt in the bin? Or do not put doggy chunks in the bin?

I go for the do and manage to ease the bag from hand, and then we walk back to the gallery and I promise myself never to walk a dog again, unless it’s a sausage dog as they’re really cute.

Always check your bags.

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