Dog shit and the crazy man.
Remember the old guy in your neighborhood who protected his lawn like a holy shrine? Well, I’m getting close to being that guy, sort of. A while ago I kept noticing a neighbor that would walk his dog down the street each morning stopping at the curb in front of my house. Sure enough, little zippy would assume the hunched position and expel his last meal of kibbles and bits, followed by a drenching yellow rain. Using the plastic bag from his morning paper, the trained owner dutifully picked up the warm excrement.
The daily episode kept grinding on me for two reasons: 1.) My kids and I play out front a lot and our softball/frisbee/toy often lands there. I know the owner picks up the “solids”, but he ain’t cleaning up like a toxic waste worker so my guess is that there is plenty of residue. 2.) Let your damn dog out in your own yard in the morning, let him drop his load there, then walk him. I know, I know, dogs can summon up a whiz or shit on command but isn’t that better than fouling your neighbors lawn? (Hhhmmm . . . maybe he values his lawn more than I, I hadn’t considered that before.) So after the umpteenth time I went out front and “asked” him to not let his dog use my front yard as his personal shit box. Well, it came out a little coarse, cuz the neighbor quickly retorted “I pick it up”. I said I knew that, but that the location of his dog’s daily stool drop is where my kids and I play. I haven’t seen him since.
This all leads up to the trashcan. I started to notice that after my curbside trash can was emptied, I was getting a prize. I’d go to take the trash cans back up to my house and notice the familiar knotted plastic bag placed lovingly inside. Someone was dropping off their dogs feces, in perfectly knotted newspaper plastic. I don’t believe it was the aforementioned neighbor because he preferred a certain color newspaper plastic and this was different. (Well, I’m pretty sure.) At any rate, I was forced to stop this because: 1.) It ain’t my dog shit. 2.) I was not fond of holding said knotted treasures in my trash can for a week when the temps got over 90 degrees. I’m funny like that.
There was only one thing to do, make a sign. Got me some stencils and spray paint from Strosniders and set to work. Sign complete, wife embarrassed and so far no more dog shit. Crazy man.
I’m admiring the myriad of ways you can say dog shit. You’re a word master.
The wife.
My problem is, the cats in the neighborhood are crapping on my lawn. As everyone knows, given the choice between filet mignon and kitty almond rocca (cat shit), any dog will gobble up the cat crap first. When I let the dogs out they know instinctively there is a snack waiting for them on the lawn. Have you ever had a dog breathe in your face after a tasty treat- not recommended. Any ideas?
Ed: Here in Bezerkely, all the trash cans are labeled “Property of the City of Berkeley.” I actually DO drop the dog doo-doo in a neighbor’s can, but he also moved in on some of my yard with his fence. Someday I will reclaim that land, but until then, they can have Bruiser’s “gift.”
Brother-in-law: dogs can actually catch diseases by eating “cat treats.” Try sprinkling human urine around the perimeter, it works, I guarantee it.
P.S. Why no link to the Doggity Report here?