By Louise Edensor
And that was how he came to be on ‘poop patrol’ on Boxing Day. He had been too excited; too eager and had wanted to change the Sim card over straight away.
He glanced down at the puppy and replayed the scene in his head. It was true—all crises were in slow motion. He recalled the Sim card falling; dancing and twirling to the floor in slow, delicate movements, and in a split second, the puppy leaning forward with his wet pink tongue, scooping it up.
Freezing, he stood over the puppy in the garden, bag in hand, scooper ready.
Ouch! I hope the puppy isn’t a chihuahua! Then again, if it was my neighbour’s yapping little blighter…