Speaking of deposits . .

I was mentioning dog deposits here.

Way back in 1973 I was staying in Oklahoma. My host Dad Jim was vice-president of the local bank.

One morning he and his friend Tom the president were chatting, OK coffee-strategising, in Tom’s office when one of the ladies popped her head in: “It’s opening time and a dog has left a great big “do” right in the entrance. It needs to be cleaned up, gentleman”.

Tom looks at Jim: “Well Jim, you’re in charge of deposits!”