Don't Whizz On The Electric Fence

Here's a strange story of tables being turned. I hate when owners let their dogs do their business anywhere they damn well please. I used to live off Great Northern Street which has more crap per square meter than a pig pen. You constantly had to walk with your head down and walking home in the dark was especially tricky. In other Belfast streets you also have to be wary of broken glass, chewing gum and the occasional dead animal. They probably cut themselves on glass, got infected by dog poo and then got rooted to the spot with chewing gum and died of disease and malnutrition.