Sunday, 17 January 2010

Holy Sh*t

In my determined quest to stop the puppy widdling in the house, I have started taking him for longer and longer walks so that he will only pee outside. The puppy has got wise to this and manages to walk for at least an hour and a half, clenching his bladder heroically in order to save his watery messages for his return to the house.

I also read somewhere (gosh, aren't I thorough in my research) that walking a dog on the pavement is the best way to keep his claws at a reasonable length, preventing them strafing my thighs when he jumps up to greet me in the mornings.

To achieve these twin aims, this morning the hound and I walked around the streets of a not particularly nice part of Harrogate, as I am bored with walking around the best streets and planning which house I shall buy when I win Euro Millions (any day now, I am certain).

What an eye-opener, not to say nose closer. The streets were a veritable cesspit of dog mess. Numerous piles of rancid coils in varying states of spludgy decay decorated every pavement - forcing me to stop listening to The Archers Omnibus at the crucial moment when Brenda learns she hasn't been offered an interview for the job of Office Manager but Susan has - and instead concentrate on performing a kind of poo slalom.

Every coat I possess has at least two poo bags in each pocket. This has certainly proved interesting when groping for shopping bags in Lidl ("you'll never fit everything into that", said a particularly arch checkout operator yesterday) but if I can do it, why can't everyone else? It's not pleasant but it's an essential part of the responsibility of being a dog owner. Admittedly, some of the bowel movements left on the asphalt gave rise to the possibility that some Harrogate residents have eschewed the dog as a domestic pet and have instead chosen to go down the elephant route, but really. It's repulsive.

When I walk through the town's beautiful Valley Gardens, which is full of dog walkers by the way, there is not a single fetid deposit to be found. When I walk around the posh to middling bits of Harrogate, ditto. I am simply presenting these facts, I am not making any comment. I am only asking: why?

1 comment:

  1. grr, i hate people that don't pick up their dogs poop. why do they think we want to see it?