Monday, May 23, 2011


Thankfully, no photos with this posting!

First of all, let me clarify that I love dogs. My wife and I had a Schnauzer for eight years and we loved her as a child. Ironically, we had to euthanize her due to kidney failure just before our daughter was born and we occasionally wondered if she was perhaps a reincarnation of Heidi, as their spirits must have passed in the night. But, in all the runs and walks Heidi and I took around the neighborhood and nearby parks in those days, we never had to concern ourselves about dealing with what all animals do naturally—that is taking a dump whenever and wherever the mood strikes them. Reflecting back, I suppose that may have been something to get a little considerate about, but no one ever confronted us or seemed to give it much thought themselves. Perhaps that may have been generational for the most part because we Americans were just migrating off farm life and it seemed perfectly natural.

I’ve watched with some amusement as our neighboring dog owners walk their beloved pets around the area. There now seems to be a new code of conduct to carry the ubiquitous non-biodegradable plastic grocery bag or Wal-Mart sack along on the daily constitutional. When the clueless canine does his or her “business”, the dutiful owner reaches into the plastic bag, bends over and grasps the warm, fresh pile of doggy doody in their hand and discretely folds the plastic container over the objectionable matter. Then the bags go into a land fill instead of a recycle box and they stay there for centuries while the doody is denied the natural cycle of replenishing the surrounding plant life. I recently observed the meat counter employee at Fresh Market using this procedure to package my marinated chicken kabobs. I’ve now sort of lost my appetite for kabobs.

I was driving to church this Sunday morning and approached a sweet young female who had just executed this delicate maneuver. She was attempting to walk on as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred as I passed within discrete eye contact. The priceless look on her face resembled someone who had just been caught with their index digit six inches up their nose at the opera. It's hard to act nonchalant when you have just scooped up a steaming pile of doggy doody and are now openly carrying it with outstretched arms to distance yourself from the fresh smell. I must admire her loyalty and true grit though, since I would have been violently retching and heaving my guts up at that point. I guess I won’t be getting another dog any time soon...

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