It is 31 December and Daisy and I go out for a walk. Because it is dark and late we don’t go into the fields. Instead we stop by a lamp post. Also, because it is dark and late and 31 December, I have forgotten to bring a poo bag. I stand at the lamp post, staring down into its shadows. I decide to walk away. Next morning it is 1 January and the air is cold. We return to the lamp post. I pick up last year’s poo. I carry last year’s poo around with me, feeling its weight, resisting the urge to swing it from side to side. Then I drop it in a bin. When we get home, I kneel down before Daisy. I ruffle her head. Don’t you think that was a beautiful gesture? I say, full of wonder. Daisy is bemused. I think, she says, that it was my poo and I was happy with where I had left it.