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Class act

So I’m sitting in my office after a wonderful repast, when a dog walker on the bike path across from my house stopped to let her pet relieve itself. She picks up the poo in one of those baggie things. So far, so good. Then, with the receptacle for dog feces about 10 feet away, she proceeds to just put the bag on the fence post rail. I mentioned it, and “She looked at me uncomprehendingly … like a cow at a passing train” (apologies to Don Henley).

Dwight Ferren

Basalt