"Lost in the high street, where the dogs run"

Today I found this little feel anxiously wandering the streets running back and forth the busy road. I felt sick to my stomach thinking that he was going to get run over so I grabbed him and begged a passerby to give me his belt so I could use it as a lead, he was much obliging. A local woman, with more facial hair than ZZ Top, told me the dog belongs to the 'big man in the wheelchair up at the shops'. So off I went with this happy little fella to look for his owner. I asked the newspaper seller, and he told me the street that the 'big fella' lived on so I headed that way. I then met the bearded lady again who said she had called her sister to come meet me with a proper lead. We walked up to her sister, who was very rotund with a fag hanging out of her mouth and her little dog 'Beauty' trotting along side her. She then took the dog, who was called 'Cuddles' off me. I felt a lovely sense of community spirit here as the mum thanked her daughter for coming to help rescue her neighbours dog as she knew the owner would be upset if anything happened to Cuddles. It was a really nice thing to do.

We were standing in the street as I was handing the dog over and saying thank you when this arrogant man in his big shiny car started beeping at us to get off the path so he could cut down a lane, he was so impatient that he didn't even see Beauty and we had to yell at him to stop. Beauty took one look at him then squatted down in front of his car and did a massive shit. She took her time and made sure she held him up for as long as possible. Dogs are such clever animals. This made me happy.