It's all got to go somewhere

People never used to pick up dog crap. There again, maybe there weren't as many dogs as there are now. Coming through Clerkenwell yesterday I happened upon one young couple apparently obeying the new etiquette with a plastic bag. The attack dog she was wrangling on the far end of a stout chain had just relieved itself and she was bending down to clear it up. As I overtook them and walked on I heard him mutter "Now throw it over the wall". (The path runs alongside the high wall surrounding an old primary school building turned into flats.) I couldn't bring myself to look round to see if she had complied. All the way back to the office I couldn't help wondering if some poor soul on the other side of the wall was also wondering what they had done do deserve this noisome visitation.