My astute young dog Max has recently undertaken the weighty task of recycling. I say 'weighty' because whether an abandoned bottle found on the street is full of liquid or empty, Max will determinedly carry it throughout the rest of the walk for immediate deposit into the blue recycling bin in front of our apartment upon our return. Ever since this unfortunate incident my young man is hell bent on saving the planet one bottle at a time and whoa unto those personages who do not recycle thine plastic! Granted I'm not sure if his recycling fever is largely due to the fact that the streets of Brooklyn are dirtier than an old man getting a lap dance in a downtown strip club or if Max is genuinely concerned about the future of our planet. I like to think it's the latter. After all, he is a sensitive young dog who has great compassion for the human condition. Well, he is!
Either way, during our twice daily walks my adopted black son will select a plastic bottle to bring home for recycle. And he's dead fucking serious about it. He's recently begun pouncing on glass liquor bottles faster than Mel Gibson at an Aryan Nation gathering in Malibu. Today it took some convincing that it probably wasn't a good idea to tote home the giant Vodka bottle left in the gutter (it was empty or I'd have carried it home myself). However, he did manage to lug home a nearly full soda bottle, dropping it every few minutes to rest and then soldiering valiantly onward. Just like our stalwart Mormon pioneer ancestors before us.