When I walk the dogs, I take a handful of black plastic bags, since the local council requires us to 'clear up after our dogs' or face a stiff fine. This being the wild blackberry season, I use a spare (clean!) one to hold the blackberries I pick on the way. Coming off the hill, I passed an American visitor, who said something, looking at the bulging bag. "I'm taking them home for supper - they're delicious with cream," I said. She turned white. Some minutes later I worked out that she had said that the dog-waste bin was just round the corner. If I see her again, I must invite her to supper.