city streets

Every leaf is sniffed.

Every brick is licked.

Every blade of grass is wee-d on.

Every morning a smelly yellow bag is binned.

Fresh air and blue skies.

Dank, miserable days.

Cold, slippy days.

On far too many days, that grumpy, smelly, darling four legged chap is the reason I get out of bed.

Exciting times, eh?

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6 thoughts on “city streets”

  1. Call him therapy, call him friend, call him whatever you like; face it your tethering to this four-footed ‘Wee Jock look-alike’ is after all the worthy ‘shtufffs’. They relentlessly tug at you for all the right reasons.

  2. I don’t know what what we’d do without them , Fiona. Like children, they accord life a necessary routine, a routine which calls out work-life balance into sharp focus.
    There’s always way too much to be done. But time stretches out. We have that at least 🙂

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