A totally random stretch off-topic ...
A colleague of mine has two gi-normous German Shepherds at home whose appetites range from the mundane to the bizarre: books, papers, knickknacks, stuffed animals, DVDs, CDs, plants, pillows, printers, remote controls and telephones. I swear these dogs will eat anything.
Gruff’s latest craving was a lamp: after knocking it over and trampling on the broken light bulb bits, he gnawed on the shade and body, eventually tiring of such unappetizing morsels. On to the switch connection. This turned out to be the best part … except that the lamp was still plugged in.
Ouch.
Gruff is now recuperating from electrical burns to his mouth, but still manages to find time to consume a wicker basket with a side of garbage ties and a computer mouse. (I resisted the urge to make recommendations on what would be a good pairing for that meal, given that my colleague was rather upset and embarrassed by her dog's latest exploits.)
This compulsive eating of strange objects naturally comes to an equally disturbing end, shall we say. To keep up with Gruff and Abby, plastic bags are a must, so my colleague puts out a regular call for bags at the office. Being the pseudo-environmentalist that I am, I tend not to have too many bags in the house, preferring to bring my cloth bags and bins every where I go. But we’ve saved enough of them to form a large ball in the garage, one that I was more than happy to hand over. She was thrilled to have a stash of sacks for poop-n-scoop.
So once every couple of weeks, I’ll bring in a mountain of bread bags, grocery bags, Ziploc bags, sandwich bags, produce bags, liquor bags, bags that have tags, bags that are blue, bags that kinda smell funny and bags with funky little designs on them, all for the cause of ridding the world’s parks of doo-doo. My colleague has since changed offices, but I still send her bags via internal mail. Just call me the Bag Fairy.
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