When the coast was clear they headed back over the bridge for home, following a well dressed lady in a suit. Amy noticed she skipped to the left just before the end of the bridge, looked at the floor, turned back to look at her, and scowled. Amy assumed she'd had a near brush with some doggy-doo and was intent on giving evil looks at the nearest pooch owner. (I would like to point out despite my dogs anti-social tendencies, I am a responsible owner and ALWAYS pick up, I have even got quite inventive when I have realised I am bagless, I'll leave those stories to another time).
On reaching the end of the bridge, Amy found much to surprise not a small brown poop but a small brown bat.
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Now I realise this will not be a surprise to anyone reading (are you out there?), both due to the title of this post, and that you probably scroll straight to the photos anyway. I however was quite shocked. Jasper wanted to play. Now, despite my dedication to scooping up small brown piles on a daily basis, the fact I had a dog lead in one hand, and also that said dog had to get rabies jab to protect him in this wonderful country, meant I was a little unsure what to do. Boris (the bat) was extremely dopey and trying to hide in the bridge crevices, sadly this meant he was likely to end up either as a dog snack or run over by a cyclist very soon. At this stage another couple arrived, and after we all ooh-ed and ah-ed, praised the RSPCA (he was a fellow Brit) and I grabbed a couple of piccies, he transferred the bat via a stick to a safer, shadier and more secluded spot.
Boris was rescued, Mr.Brit walked away with a very impressed girlfriend, and Jasper and I went home for a turkey shaped sponge cake with a story for today's blog post.
And we all lived happily ever after. x
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