Bagboy...

There is a saying about 'what goes around comes around', and at no time has that been more fitting than on my dog walk yesterday.

As you all know by know, my two dogs are extremely different in character.  I have Percy, the older of the two, who is sensible, distinguished, calm and basically, the dog who everybody wants (except for the time he rolled in some fox poo when even I considered putting him up for adoption).  And then there is Reg.

He arrived around three years after we got Percy, and the purchase was based on the fact that Percy was such a great dog.  If only we'd known...  Reg could be a completely separate species, let alone a different breed of dog, he is so unlike Percy.

Brash, daft, naughty, destructive and dirty.  And these are his better points.  He decapitates my flowers, poops wherever the fancy takes him and will eat anything which stops moving long enough.  Yesterday, he got his comeuppance...

We'd been over to the allotment to water what was left of my vegetable plants.  The only thing that's going bonkers over there is my one pumpkin plant I stuck in. Have you seen 'Day of the Triffids'?  Well, that's what half of my allotment looks like.  Every day I go over there, there is yet another flower on it and it has taken squatting rights over another vegetable's patch.  I'm not saying that it's impressive, but it's only a matter of time before I go over there and find a couple of footmen, and a young girl screaming, 'I'm not going to the ball wearing this!' 

So, watering finished, I took a lazy walk home through my estate.  Now yesterday was bin day, and I always take particular care with Reg when out with him, because he likes to ferret around the bins pretending he's some kind of urban fox.  He'd stopped suddenly, and Percy and I slowly carried on walking, assuming that the little beggar would catch us up.  Eventually, he trotted up beside us, giving no eye contact, as if to say, 'Well if I can't see her, she can't see me'.  He had something firmly clenched between his teeth.

'What have you got Reg?'  I asked.  'Come on, drop it'.  I don't know why I bother saying this to him as selective deafness is another of his special gifts.

But he wasn't releasing his treasure, and he trotted off ahead.  As we turned the final bend before home, he suddenly stopped and something fell out of his mouth.  My first thought was that it might be something which may or may not still be live, but it was better than that.  

A used tea bag....or should I say, a torn, used tea bag.

Some of the contents had been swallowed, and Reg did a very good impression of a cat with a furball for the rest of the journey.

Percy, who rarely overdoes it on the emotion front, was seen to snigger slightly behind a raised paw.

I wasn't so discreet...