After 2 days of rain we now have a shirt sleeve dog walking day, marvellous. It was nearly ruined though. I took enough cack bags to cover one number 2. The maths are simple, or so I thought. Dog 1, check . Which therefore equals 1 number 2, check, 1 cack bag equals a perfect equasion. Life is in balance.
The bag was duly used, we are now just waiting for the bin to arrive on our circuit. The bastard did another! I’ll be honest panicked for a bit, no one seemed to notice so all was well. I just whistled a bit and casually walked on. I binned the waste and continued on my way. The bastard then did another! FFS! that really threw me into appoplexia, fortunately I had some Amyl Nitrate with me ( it may have been coke I don’t know one white powder is like another after a bit) and that got my heart going again. So I ran off.
No wonder I hate Dogs, especially when it turns out they have a GCE in maths. Why did it do that? Why didn’t it do 1 number 6 instead of three number 2’s? I HATE DOGS!
When we were near the end of the walk we had to walk passed some children who were shooting at each other with pistols. I slowed down to avoid looking like a fleeing suspect. As I walked by my muscles were tightening waiting to feel the thwack of a BB pellet in the back. They would have easily been able to justify the shooting as clean, if they had witnessed either of the shittings. After 50 yards or so I knew I’d got away with it scot free, I was home and dry.
I think I’ll take 3 cack bags out in future, life on the edge is not my cup of tea.