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Amid all the hubbub yesterday on Facebook about my negligence in cleaning up after my dog walk was my unspoken amusement that a second poop bag remained unaccounted for after it was all said and done. I knew it was missing, but was too caught up in the first scandal to worry too much about it. Today I discovered it in the driveway of one of the doggies' best friends, Elvis the Woodle, who, in spite of being named after the king, is actually female. In contrast to yesterday's lost bag, which was sitting untouched, this one had been run over at least once, and had burst. The good news is that it was frozen solid, so what looked like a horrible mess came up cleanly without a trace. Meanwhile, I think I need to start a campaign to place more public garbage cans around our village to help stop the scourge of miscreants like myself.
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