Be careful...

I have a theory...

I should say that if you're about to eat your breakfast, it might be an idea to push me to one side until you're finished, such is the topic I am about to dive into.

So, back to my theory.  

As a responsible and considerate dog walker, I always pick up after my dogs after their comfort breaks.  Walking across the fields by the river yesterday afternoon, I was desperately trying to dodge the cowpats and sheep droppings, and the duck and goose poop, and I realised that these animals and birds were allowed to abandon their throughput on the grass because (wait for it) they didn't have anyone who was prepared to pick it up after them.  Therefore, they get away with it, pooping willy-nilly while the poop bag police completely ignore them, instead glaring at every dog walker with suspicion.

Of course, once you have accepted that you pick up your dogs' poop, then the question arises as to who is actually in charge.  I mean, these four legged critters don't work, they have their food prepared each day and brought to them, there's no expectation whatsoever of them thinking about anyone other than themselves and they lie on their backs while I spend hours fawning over them.

I pondered all this as I was bent double by a bramble patch desperately trying to bag up one of Percy's offerings in a stiff wind, while Reg (still on the long lead) was having a contretemps with a rather loopy Cockerpoo called Skippy. Why my two feel the need to distance themselves from me while I'm in full bagging mode is beyond me.  The least they could do is shield me from the accusing stares and act like mini wind breaks - that would at least be useful.

So to the bags.  I don't know about you other dog walkers, but I always buy perfumed nappy sacks for my boys, as a waft of baby friendly perfume makes the whole job a little more pleasant.  I also like the colours you can get, with my own particular favourite being the purple ones.  The walk I was on yesterday has no bins on the way round, so I have started the habit of putting one bag inside the other as each one is filled.  This means that instead of juggling seven or eight individual bags, I just have one which looks like it could be holding a week's shopping by the time I get to the car park.  

There have been many a time when someone walking towards me has looked at the bag, looked at the dogs, looked back at the bag, and then finally at me.   

Never mind me my friend, you want to have a chat with the cows.  They certainly have some issues.

I should know.  I trod in two yesterday...