Brand New Year

It is a hot morning on the first day of a brand new year.  The humans and the dog are tired because they had a wild night in and stayed up until midnight to watch the fireworks on TV.

Wild night in.

Fatigue notwithstanding, the dog has to go for a walk because otherwise she will have far too much energy later in the day, and will be prone to barking.

It is a slow walk.  The dog likes to sniff things.  The human chooses a shady street so that she can stand in the shade while the dog is sniffing.

She is a committed sniffer.

 

As happens on dog walks, the dog poos and the human uses a little green bag to pick up the poo.  She ties the bag off neatly and then, because this is only a short walk, just carries the bag in her hand rather than tying it onto the dog's leash.  

The walk continues: the dog sniffs, the human daydreams.  They leave the shady street behind and walk down a sunlit lane toward home.

It is hot.  The dog pants and the human's glasses slip down her sweaty nose.  Still daydreaming, she raises her hand and pushes her glasses back up her nose.

And smacks herself in the face with a bag of dog poo.  It is a small mercy that the bag remains intact.