(I've been saving eggshells to plant seeds in. The Man has been playing around a lot with his new camera and thought the shells would make an interesting picture.)
I just want to make clear that I am a very responsible dog walker. I never leave home without a roll of biodegradable green bags--poop bags, for the lack of a more poetic term--in my jacket pocket, and I always scoop.
Well, almost always. Sometimes this time of year, if I'm not paying close attention, I lose sight of things. The grass around our neighborhood is faded and brown, often covered with leaves. From time to time when Travis is done doing his business, I simply cannot find it. I look and look, and it's like it disappeared.
I am only willing to devote so much of my day to searching for missing business. If I can't find it after a minute, I shrug and move along.
Today was one of those days. Travis did his business, I searched for it, couldn't find it. Only today there was a neighbor backing out of her driveway while Travis was going, and I felt like I couldn't just walk away. She'd probably seen Travis doing his business--you can't miss it, after all, when a dog's got number 2 on his mind--and if I just walked away, she'd think I was one of those terrible people who does not scoop.
And then what would happen? She'd probably post something on the neighborhood list-serv. To the woman in the red jacket with the adorable Cockapoo, PLEASE SCOOP YOUR DOG'S POOP. Well, I walk my dog every day, and every day I wear my red jacket, so everyone would know it was me, and I'd probably be forced to sew a huge P to the back of my coat.
Unbearable. Untenable. So you know what I did? I scooped a poop-sized portion of leaves. Scooped 'em right into my biodegradable poop bag, waved to my neighbor, and I went on my merry way.
I mean, what else was I supposed to do?
Warm Golden Days and Nature Journals
4 hours ago