Revenge on Tesco

I made the mistake of taking Sidney for a walk. I hadn't intended going any further than Tesco to get some cigs but David conned me into taking the hound.

Having no cigs is a bad thing.

Having no cigs while walking the slowest dog in Christendom is worse!.

It takes around forty minutes to get around the block with the hound from hell. Then he has to be put on the lead to cross the road. Sidney will not walk on the lead. Luckily, its only a narrow road so dragging him across doesn't wear down his paws to much.

Tesco have, very thoughtfully, put a dog ring on the wall outside. Unfortunately, it had a dog tied to it already. Unthinkingly I tied him to a metal frame thing with a stack of baskets in / on it. Tesco was its usual chaotic self, but having stood in the queue for a minute or so, the chaos seemed to be getting worse. Low-and-behold, Satan's spawn saunters around the corner towing a stack of baskets behind him. Now I'm in a bit of a quandary, do I admit to owning this vile ginger dog and his impromptu caravan [and thus lose my place in the queue], or do I ignore it, smile benignly, and hope he wanders off? Bulldogs, in general, and Sidney in particular, tend not to recognise their owners so the later was not an impossibility, but on this occasion, the beast spotted me and plodded right up, tail a-wagging.

I don't think I'll ever be able to show my face in Tesco ever again.