But it turned out that I was not really the object of his desire; he was just after the doggy treats in my pocket. He used me then when he'd had what he wanted discarded me like an old wrapper. Leaving me with nothing.
Except muddy shorts.
And a box full of blackberries.
It's an exceptionally good year for blackberries but let me offer some advice to would-be blackberry gatherers.
1) Don't wear shorts. I suspect I said the same thing last year. Maybe next year I will take my own advice.
2) You are not as tall as you think you are. You know those luscious plump juicy blackberries you are convinced you could reach if you just stretched a bit more? You can't. It will end in tears.
The ideal blackberry-gatherer will be tall and trousered. And, ideally, with Inspector Gadget arms.