Reverse thrust

I think you'd call it a rush job. An after dinner sprint because she's had one too many chocolate biscuits from which she never drops any crumbs. As we crossed the road, she told me that she fancied a change, that we were going to try something new.

Do I get to see camels crossing the desert? No. Do I get to feel the sweet breath of Niagara Falls dampening my coat? No. Do I get to cock my leg on the Giant Redwoods in Yosemite? No. Her idea of a change is to walk exactly the same route, in reverse and faster. When I say in reverse, I don't mean that we walked backwards because that would be plain stupid (for all I know that could even be next) but we went anticlockwise instead of clockwise. Just how is this different? Any fool dog can tell that it's exactly the same pavement but that the little shrubs bordering people's gardens that she always yanks me back from, the lamp post with the 'No Fouling' sign and that rusty patch on the post box all come in the opposite order. The situation was further complicated by the velocity of her gait and it became like watching my life being rewound at high speed.

Now the consequence of all this reversal business is a difficulty in the execution of my business, the target area usually being within the last third of our walk. I strongly suspect that her hidden agenda for this reverse thrust was to avoid the embarrassment of bending down in the same area yet again to clean up after me. Little did she know. A rush job, I think you'd call it.