The Power of the Blue Bag

It happens several times a day.  Although shackled, Otto and I are led outside to relieve ourselves of the wide variety of foodstuffs which our “parents” have so graciously allowed us to consume.  Clodhopper (aka “Clod”, the pet name Otto and I have for our adoptive father) stands behind us.  Otto laughs as we intertwine our restrictive leashes around a tree, bush or other obstruction.  Clod feebly attempts to keep up but usually fails, a nest of multi-colored cabling making him more the fool.

Then, the moment of truth.   We deposit our processed meals directly onto the ground.  And the best part?  Clod has to pick it up.  I’m not certain who created such a wonderful law, but watching humans (and Clod in particular) collect our waste with a grimace of barely-concealed disgust is a moment of pure bliss.  

Otto didn’t understand why they insist on carrying it around with them for several minutes.  I explain my belief that this same law requires them to do so, but in truth this remains a bit of a mystery.  Eventually, though, the blue bag is deposited in some form of a receptacle where I can only assume yet another group of humans has to deal with it from there.

The exhilaration of knowing this will happen each and every day fills me with a sense of hope.  If Clod can be reduced to this task, what else can we make him do?  I hope to find out shortly.