I rode up to my door and was just about to put the bike in the dining room (otherwise known as the bike den) when I glanced back at a small, brown lump on the sidewalk. A little closer examination proved it to be the end product of a doggie's food cycle -- the waste product, as it were.

Knowing Murphy operates very openly in these parts, I checked my tyres (a nod to Stapfam with the spelling), and sure enough, there was abundant evidence that I had, indeed, ridden right over the aforementioned doggie tootsie roll.

But I was lucky to have made my discovery while still outside, because I could hose off the tire (a nod to those this side of the pond, spelling-wise), before bringing the malodorous beast into my living quarters. Who knows how long it would have taken to find the source of the aromatically challenged offender?

Then, after hosing the bike, I thought to check, and indeed there something suspicious on the tread on my shoes, as well - seems in my dismount I may have planted a foot in the little brown mudpie.

Ah, well, all's well that ends well.