Today I shelved another decision.
Sometimes they’re just too difficult.
I was cycling towards the ‘chicane’ entrance that leads into the park, near the eastern end of Tamworth Road.
I stopped because on the grassy verge, a little way beyond the gap through the hedge, was a greyhound, squatting to relieve itself.
A long cord led from the greyhound’s collar to the hand of an overweight lady who was standing in the narrow entrance, scrabbling in her bag. She was unsteady because the cord was taught and the dog was restless and shivery.
She pulled out a black plastic ‘poo-bag’ just as the dog stood up, but it decided it wanted to be in the park. It bounded past her and on down the path. She tried to hold it back, shouting angrily whilst trying to straighten out the plastic bag and bending down towards the little present the dog had left steaming in the grass.
But the dog was jumping back and forth, pulling and tugging at its lead, unbalancing its mistress as she tried to stretch the bag over her free hand. Then the dog gave a particularly hard pull: she let go of the bag, and nearly fell through the gateway. She recovered her balance, reined in the dog a little, abandoned the ‘poo-bag’ and what should have been in it, and walked on through the park.
Southsea Storytellers 
I’m guessing you didn’t go in the park then?
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On reflection, I could have taken over the task of dealing with the dog’s deposit but I didn’t think of that until I was half-way home. It has since rained heavily so it will only be the plastic bag that needs to be dealt with, I’ll check on my next ride that way. I did go into the park but took a different path to the one the aforementioned lady followed.
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