You can slag off the wife and the kids but I draw the line at the dug. It’s a pleasant leafy suburb where the neighbours nod or grunt, and when the sun’s out we all cross the boundaries and engage in some niceties.
But it’s been plagued by some dog littering of late. It is disgusting, and the neighbourhood watch agree.
The vigilantes have taken to the streets and every lamppost in sight with images of the mutt; Shaming the owner.
I’ve got little hands to think about and pretty shoes that don’t want spoiling.
The flyposting depicts a black dog depositing and it’s graphic. But that’s not what has upset my dear husband. It’s the google image which has a likeness to his dear Charlie. And he’s a responsible dog owner.
His role as Charlie’s owner is paramount. That is why he’s taken to producing his own message. Not printed. Worse, written in thick black felt tip pen.
“Can you laminate this?”
If it’s not the dog, it’s the bins or the recycling and he’s still in his twenties.
“I always pick up.” He rants on.
Plastered on the gate for all to see.
“But I’m a responsible dog owner.”
We know. I know. The dog comes first. You love your Charlie.
And now all the neighbours know too.