Spit or swallows

Really that should say spit and swallows, but I like to get smutty where I can. So, the spit comes from walking on Instow beach this morning - early, before the rain came - and finding a huge dog turd on what was otherwise pristine sand. It made me want to spit in an uncharacteristic rage against my fellow dog owners. How stupid are they? I was walking my dog and yes, she unloaded on the beach, but it can only have been there for seconds before I swooped with the little tie-handle bag and scooped the still warm dog eggs off the sand. (Sorry if you're eating as you read this, but really it's not as bad as it sounds, just don't breathe in while you're doing it.)

But as a result of spotting Dog Poop Mountain on the beach my walk was marred somewhat as I fulminated against the stupidity, idleness and thoughtlessness of those people who let their dogs loose to drop their turds wherever they will without following behind their pet to pick up. Dirty, dirty, dirty. Don't blame the dog, blame the owner. Also, to a lesser extent, blame local councils which have the power to fine dog owners who do not clear up after their animals, but rarely use it. A law which is not enforced doesn't really count. Drivers with mobiles jammed against their ears while negotiating traffic prove that point.

I walked up the beach conducting an internal dialogue with myself about selfish dog owners and whether I should pick up the offending excrement as I walked back along to my car. The "in-my-head" jury was coming down very firmly on the side of "Sod it, leave it, it's not your responsibility." But then I happened to glance up and there, flying about 20ft above the water's edge, were three or maybe four swallows. They'd come back from Africa to Britain, where, let's face it, the weather was not being the most welcoming, and while, as the saying tells us, one swallow does not a summer make (nor do three or four, by the way) it's certainly a cheering sight. Therefore, I reasoned that if they could make the effort to come all the way back to the UK, I could overcome my aversion to picking up someone else's dog's massive turd. Which I did, even though it weighed a ton. (Yes, I know that's ridiculous exaggeration, but you should have seen it. It had it's own stinky micro-climate.) So well done swallows, you cheered me up and made me do something positive. That must be some money in the karma bank acccount, surely?