I’ve just returned from a morning walk with my canine buddy Coco. A meander with the obligatory aimless wandering, inquisitive sniffing, the marking of territory with four pees and a sign off poop….. And that was just me!

Seriously, though, witnessing the sheer glee on my labrador chum’s endearing facade, while zig zagging across the open field near her Lancashire home, more than makes up for the concession of picking up of her business.

I always thought calling the act of a dog’s bowel movement ‘his/her business’ an odd expression. When Coco’s owner Sam states “I’m taking Coco to the green to do her business.”, I’m immediately presented with a mental vision of my little buddy selling bags of cocaine from an ice cream van in that particular locale.

Despite her giddiness sometimes making it appear the adorable lab has taken some narcotic or other, Cokes doesn’t partake in or sell coke….. It’s cannabis!

Yet again, that’s clearly fictional. Even if it was somehow physically possible for her to partake is such skullduggery, Coco doesn’t understand the concept of not drawing attention to herself.

Her giddy barking on meeting people so cacophonous, on a bad day, it’s been known to travel as far as the neighbouring town of Middleton. A trait which I’d venture makes her utterly unsuitable for involvement any illegal activity requiring stealth.

Additionally, even without the barking, I reckon a labrador (or indeed any breed of canine) serving from an ice cream van wouldn’t aid in maintaining the cloak and dagger approach required to sell drugs.

Having just devoured breakfast with the finesse of German pilots random scattering of bombs during the Blitz, Cokes has now wandered upstairs for a lay down.

For those interested, her breakfast an amalgam of dry weight loss dog biscuits and small pieces of Italian ham left from yesterday evenings pizza. The later ingredient augmenting an otherwise bland doggy dish…… Actually, even if you’re not interested, the lady’s brekkie was still an amalgam of dry weight loss biscuits and small pieces of Italian ham.

If you’ve not read my blog Light During Darkness you’ll not know I’m currently undertaking dog sitting duties for Coco after her owner Sam’s mum Angela passed away on Monday.

Angela was very fond of Cokes, a love reciprocated by the giddy and affectionate lab. Yesterday, Sam and I commented how, taking into account that bond, Coco couldn’t have attended Thursday’s funeral.

We concurred that, even if my current charge had a quiet laidback demeanour, dogs wouldn’t be allowed in the crematorium. Laughing as we pictured the carnage which’d ensue should our hyper girl be given liberty to roam inside the crem. Concluding the action would likely play out as a canine version of Mr Bean.

As I near this narrative’s conclusion, Cokey has just come back downstairs. Deciding she wants to lay on the sofa instead of the bed, the furry rugrat’s reclined like Lady Avashight on Sam’s settee.

Despite being bathed in warming sunshine, for some reason, Coco’s looking very sorry for herself…… Oh no, don’t tell me her ice cream van’s broken down again!!

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