Bag o’ sh*t

Art, Cartoons, Soapbox

Hand on heart, I’ve never been a ‘doggy’ person.
Bag o' sh*t

I tolerate dogs. I tolerate then when they bark and growl at me. I tolerate them when they stinky slobber on my hand. I even tolerate them when they leap up and try and knock me over. Actually, I just remembered back to a little Yorkie I used to know called Chewy. Chewy was OK.

But poo is the problem. Poo on your shoe. Poo in areas where children play. Poo in areas like nature reserves where ecologists play – grovelling on hands and knees, looking for marsh fritillary larvae or early signs of squinancywort.

Good dog owners pick up the poo [scoop the poop] in a plastic bag and dispose of it in the appropriate manner. A hearty round of applause for all those good folk.

Bad dog owners shiftily avert their gaze to admire a passing cement truck and continue their sauntering walk as Effin’ Fido dumps a pile in the middle of the pavement/footpath/canal towpath.

But there’s an in-between breed [crossbreed?] of dog owners whose behaviour is, quite frankly, incomprehensible. After dutifully bagging up their pet’s excrement they throw the bag down into the grass, under some bushes, or even tie the bag onto a branch of a bush.

What do they think will happen to the bagged-up shite? Do they walk past the bag each day and admire it? The polythene is very effective at preserving its contents and preventing it from breaking down naturally. No chance of dung-loving insects processing it in there.

I am totally flummoxed by these people. I wait in hope of enlightenment from someone who has insight into their mindset.