pigs I’ve just come back from walking the dogs solo this morning. I am on the verge of recovery but Big Friendly is man down now with a flu that has gone to his chest. When I walk the dogs without Big Friendly I take more notice of everything around me. Today I started my regular fume with what pigs people are. On the tiny field where we walk there are bottle necks, pieces of clothes and shoes, bits of polystyrene (my worst), empty cans, you name it. There is a special bin in the park to dispose of dog pooh. You would think that dog walkers would ‘get it’. I mean, they walk in the same park every day. If they don’t clean up today they’ll walk into their own dog’s shit tomorrow. But no.

litter0205_468x550 So I was stomping around the field thinking, “What pigs people are”, and then it dawned on me, those poor pigs get the raw end of that deal. They’re angels compared to us.

I also realised that I live in the constant hope that things will improve, that children will learn, that all of a sudden people will give a shit about our areas, neighbourhoods, cities, countries, planet. But it’s not going to happen. It is getting worse. Just walk along Milnerton beach and see what gets washed up. There I go again. I’ve just worked myself up into a total rage.