A couple of days a go, we were walking through the village when Sid paused, sniffed the grasses and flowers at the side of the road, then shuffled his bottom as far into them as he could and did … well, what dogs do.
Now, as you probably know, the law says we have to ‘pick up’ after our dogs and we have no problem with that – after all, nobody likes to step in what someone else’s dog has left on the path, do they? I know I complained bitterly enough about it when my boys were young.
What you probably don’t know, is that Sid has been suffering from an antibiotic-induced case of what, in greyhound circles, is known as ‘the Big D’. He’s being treated for that, of course, but it’s a tad slow to clear up, and meanwhile his offerings are … shall we say .. a little ‘soft serve‘. Less than cohesive. Nuff said?
So both OH and I gaze down at what Sid has managed to deposit so far into the vegetation that someone is going to have to practically get down on their hands and knees, and then, after a thoughtful pause, OH spoke.
OH: ‘I’ll do anything you want if you pick that up’.
Me (cynically): ‘Oh yeah?’
OH: ‘Yes! Yes! Anyth … ‘
His voice trailed off and there was another thoughtful pause, during which I simply looked at him.
OH: ‘You know, the trouble is, you sometimes don’t want the right things!’
Silly me. I was quite hopeful there, for a minute!