You have to laugh. Well mainly when it’s someone else’s misfortune, when it’s your own it is never quite so funny. Anyway, where we live they make you split all your rubbish into lots of different categories. There is the green bin, the grey bin, the red box, the blue bag, the cardboard, the bottles and so on. Well the green bin is for biodegradable waste and you have to pay for the number of times it is emptied. You can put it out every 2 weeks but the problem with that is it is only partly full but you still pay the set amount to put the bin out. If you leave it longer then everything starts to decompose, smell horrible and attract the flies. There is a solution to this problem, in theory. You can buy special biodegradable bags to put things inside. So this is what my mistress has done. She puts the waste in the bag and the bag in the bin. She then ties a bag up and starts on the next one. However! You can get quite a lot in one bag so she doesn’t tie it up immediately. She takes more rubbish out to it, lifts the bag out of the bin, puts the fresh lot of waste in and then puts it back in the bin. Bless her! She was undertaking this process the other day whilst wearing open toed sandals. When she lifted the biodegradable bag out of the bin to put some more waste in, it had biodegraded and the bottom dropped out depositing well rotted vegetables all over her feet. The moral of this story is, well I’m not sure but I think it should be ‘don’t eat vegetables’. She seemed to think the decomposed banana skins were the worst.
I have found a way to make my mistress go all funny and make odd squeaking noises. There she was sitting on her chair with her bare feet curled up under her. I think she was concentrating on something when I came up and started to lick the underside of her feet. I think what she said was something like ‘stop that it tickles’ but through the laughter and squawks it was quite hard to work out the exact words. It was a shame because she had obviously walked through something that tasted interesting.
My mistress is convinced that the root I keep digging up and eating is the doggy equivalent of ‘magic mushrooms’. Apparently after I eat it I run round madly for half an hour, think it just gives me a bit of energy but she is less certain. She says if she could work out which root it was she would try to find out more about it, but does she really think I am going to share that sort of a secret with her?