I live up a quiet country lane. There are a few houses. Not many. Enough to make it a pleasant little community. We all get on [reasonably] well. The lane doesn’t go anywhere, so it is nice and quiet.
But there is something that is bothering me.
Someone or something keeps dumping a turd outside my gate.
It’s not our Sandy, because it is always outside the gate. It’s not me. I don’t think it’s Herself.
And it is always beautifully placed. It is not to one side or the other. It is always bang in the middle. It is placed very strategically so that anyone coming in out of the gate is bound to step in it.
There is a lot of space around here. We are in the countryside after all. So why dump just there? It happens every two or three days. Other people have commented on it too, so it’s not me being paranoid.
I go out and open the gate, and there it is, smiling at me. It is always of the Mr Whippy variety [If you don’t know what a Mr Whippy is – its a type of ice-cream cone. Use your imagination]. So the perpetrator is obviously healthy enough and is getting enough fibre.
I presume it’s a dog. It could be a fox or a badger, but I’m not an expert in animal poo. I’d put my money on a dog. [That’s an expression. I hate greyhound racing]. But why don’t they crap at home? Why not anywhere else on the lane? Or in someone’s garden? No. It has to be outside my gate.
Do I take it as an insult? “I’ll show that old codger what I think of him!”
Or do I take it as a compliment? “I like Grandad. I’ll leave him a little token of affection”
I’m not really very well up on the thought processes of dogs, apart from our Sandy. She is very discreet. She will always head down to the far end of the garden and very carefully check that no one is watching before doing her business. She is a very modest lass.
I could put up a sign, I suppose. “Please do not crap here, or if you must then please do it to one side or the other but not in the middle”. But Dogs aren’t really very good at reading. Apart from our Sandy of course.
There again, it mightn’t be an animal at all. It might be human. Now that is a scary thought. I don’t want to go down that road of thought.
I might step in something.