When you're a dog owner, like it or not, scooping the poop kinda just goes with the territory -- at least it's supposed to anyway.  And unlike some of the other yahoos around here, I would personally never leave a steaming pile of lawn sausages in my neighbor's front yard.  It's just not the neighborly thing to do.  Now do I enjoy picking up a handful of stinky dog dung?  Heck no!  Nevertheless, though, I gag my way through every shitty little bit of it cause that's what I signed up for when I brought a four-legged friend into our family.


And let me just tell ya that poop patrol is certainly not for the faint of heart.  Try as you may to get the whole heaping mess into that skinny little plastic bag, there are times when it ends up on YOU.  Take, for instance, my afternoon walk with Goatdog last week when he dropped a load that could seriously rival a cow's.  I wriggled and I jiggled it into the bag as much as I possibly could, but its mountainous size made it an impossible fit.  Before I knew it, I was wearing a big ol' smudge of it on my fingers like the newest shade of OPI.  Lovely, eh?


So given that I was on my way to the library to pick up my kids, I thought it'd be best to dispose of the rancid refuse before I got there.  Now for some reason, a few people in my hood get their panties all up in a bunch over people throwing away poop bags in their alley trash cans.  In fact, some even go so far as to place signs on their garbage cans that say "NO DOG POOP!"  I typically don't throw out stuff in anyone's cans but our own, but this was kind of an emergency.  I mean, my nails were brown, for crap's sakes! (*Pun intended.*)


I scanned the area to make sure no one was looking as I carefully lifted the lid.  Without hesitation, I dropped the bag of ick down into the deep, dark can......along keys.  Son. Of. A. Bitch.  Not only did I have butt mud on my hands, but NOW I had to dig through someone else's waste to fetch my friggin' keys!!!  Begrudgingly, I held my breath, tipped the can on its side, and reached down as far as my arm could possibly extend.


The willies washed over my entire body as I made contact with my keys as well as some seriously soiled food wrappers and other unidentifiable gunk.  I nearly vomited right there in the alley.  After that, I practically ran the dog over to pick the kids up and get the hell home.  I swear if I could've bathed in a tub of Clorox, I totally would have.  And the next time I walk the dog, I may just be wearing a hazmat suit as a precaution....

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