A veteran and poet pulls up a sandbag and shares a life of adventure, mishap and dogged determination.
I imagine the dog thinking to itself: why does my Master flush his poo away when he goes to such trouble to gather mine in a little perfumed bag and store it in one of those big plastic bins? It just doesn't make sense. Strange creatures, humans!
Probably very true Richard. :-)
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I imagine the dog thinking to itself: why does my Master flush his poo away when he goes to such trouble to gather mine in a little perfumed bag and store it in one of those big plastic bins? It just doesn't make sense. Strange creatures, humans!
ReplyDeleteProbably very true Richard. :-)
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