This morning, I was tiptoeing, but not through tulips. (I wish.) No, no. Something far less pleasant.
I imagine something like this was going through your head: “It’s so cold out. Can’t feel my fingers. Can’t get the bag open with my mitts on. Certainly don’t want to take my mitts off, Heavens no. Hurry up, Spot, I wanna go inside. Is anyone watching us? Do you think that man over there cares? Naw? We’ll just cover up that little doody… All gone!”
Yeah, not exactly. Now that the snow is melting, it’s all coming back, your pooch’s perfect little logs all lined up in a row, ready and ripe for the smushing underfoot. Under my feet.
If it were one or even two of you, I could probably handle it. Even in the summer, there’s the occasional dog owner who seems to have forgotten the etiquette. Heck, even I’ve had to leave behind a small transgression because I’ve found myself caught without a scooping method. But the evidence is all over, my canine-loving friends and I am truly disgusted. You have all forgotten that little poop’n’scoopin’ rule.
It’s pretty much too late for this year. I know you won’t remember which little (or big) turd belonged to your dog, and I can’t imagine you would be willing to guess and finally do the right thing. But maybe next year, you could remember? Grit your teeth, take your mitts off if you have to, stick your hand in that bag and scoop. We won’t be here anymore, but I’m sure there are other slightly disgruntled dog owners who would greatly appreciate it if the snow could melt cleanly.
In case you didn’t get the point of this letter:
Pick up your dogs’ crap already!
Mocha’s owner, your (usually) friendly neighbour
(Apologies to my regular readers who don’t have a dog and really didn’t want to read all about doggy doodoo.)