Oh! One of my biggest pet peeves in the ENTIRE world is an owner who doesn’t curb his dog. I mean I hate it!
For nearly a year, one dog owner allowed his pet to poop on our sidewalk. I mean EVERY DAY I’d find his calling card. We didn’t even own a dog. While I wouldn’t put it past my boys to poop on the front sidewalk, from the size of it, it clearly didn’t come from them. An added bonus to this daily gift was the times my boys accidentally stepped in it before tracking it through the house.
I was determined to figure out this mystery! (A once working woman turned stay-at-home-mom clearly needs an outlet.)
I made a little chart on my calendar to track the time I found the poop each day. From my calculations, the dog walker passed our house between 8-8:45 each morning. The exact time I dropped my kids at pre-school, how convenient!
One school-free morning, I announced to the boys, “Today is the day!” We lined ourselves up along the edge of the front windows and waited.
“What are we looking for?” One of my boys asked.
“A pooping dog! Now get down!”
We ducked lower in hopes of concealing ourselves beneath the window sill. The owner I suspected spotted us and dragged her dog further up the street.
Not deterred, the next week, the boys and I jumped in the car and parked in the cul-de-sac around the corner in hopes of catching her off guard.
Foiled! She caught sight of us and hurried past. (It’s hard to be invisible with three boys ages 2, 3 and 5 yelling, “Is that the dog that poops in our yard, Mommy?!” at the top of their lungs.)
“Really?” My husband asked. “All this for some dog poop?” He knew enough not to question. (We have been together for nearly 15 years.) When I get like this he walks backwards out of the room and never loses eye contact.
I never did figure it out, but word must have spread. It stopped. No more packages.
Several years and one dog later, I was out walking Spot. And I saw IT. Evidence that the small pony still lives, breathes and poops in our neighborhood.
Yuck! I pulled on Spot’s lease to keep him moving. Then stopped. Or, I thought, I could clean it up.
Sometimes like shit, a random act of kindness happens.