Dog Poop

Have you ever seen those signs in parks where they tell you to pick up your dog poop? They often have pictures of sign people (the distant cousins of stick people) and the sign dog squatting. There is sometimes a fine associated with leaving dog poop around. The ones that don't usually have a threatening, ambiguous message at the bottom that indicates your dog's poop staying on the grass could result in anything from scarring stepping-in-poo incidents to a pandemic resurgence of the Black Death to the beginning of a nuclear holocaust. Or all three. The implied question is, "Do you really want to be the irresponsible dog owner who nuked humanity?"



(please note that the second sign is from Canada)

Maybe I don't want to be that person, but you also can't underestimate my laziness. The pooper scooper didn't help because it was awkward, bulky, and it always gets ripe shit smeared on it. And then it bumps against my leg and the day is automatically a bad day. I just don't understand why I have to clean up poop in the dog park. Anywhere else, sure, but not in the dog park. I don't leave dog poop on people's front lawns (I'm looking at you, lady with the annoying terrier-thing). No one's actually frolicking in the dog park grass. Well, occasionally dogs are, but dogs don't really care about poop in the grass. I've seen them eat the feces, for crying out loud. So I'll come right out and say it: when no one's looking, I leave my dog's poop on the grass. Pearl does a tricky thing where she walks around as she's doing her business, so you really can't tell where anything is. The only conclusion to be drawn is that I wasn't meant to scoop it up in a plastic bag and awkwardly carry it home.

I'm that asshole who ignores the signs, but until yesterday I lived with the secret knowledge of it weighing down on me. I was vilified when I caught someone else in the act yesterday. The man stared blankly into the distance, directly under the "NO POOP HERE, YOU CRIMINAL" sign, obviously well used to the routine. You can tell when people have young dogs because they always stare intently at the dog while it helps the grass grow. When the dog finished, the owner started to move off. He turned and saw me. We looked simultaneously from the poop to the sign, then to each other. He muttered, "I didn't have a bag, and it's just this one time."

"I won't say anything."
"The stupid dog really likes the spot under the sign, he's marked it."
"Yeah."
"And normally I'd pick it up, but I'm rushed and I don't have a bag."
"You said you didn't have a bag before." Awkward. RED ALERT, RED ALERT, ESCAPE!
"Yes, well. I don't even like the dog. It was supposed to be my wife's. Who the hell's walking on the grass anyway? is all I'm saying. You know?"
"I don't always pick up my dog's poop."
To which he declared, "Thank God!" and made a getaway.

Although I knew I wasn't alone in my sins, it was comforting to see someone else sinning. And there's something great about seeing someone leave his dog's business directly under the mildly threatening sign. But I always tell my mother that I've collected the poop, and I even run to the garage and pretend to put it in the trash. It was apparent that the man didn't feel guilty, but he felt the need to appear to feel guilty. And perhaps that is a fundamental problem for many of us, that we are afraid to tell or show people how incredibly not guilty we feel. Perhaps the world would be a better place if we all were just honest and didn't pretend to feel a certain way because society says you're a heartless clod or evolutionally challenged if you don't.

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