The Dog Ate My Plastic Bag

I'm pretty easy going, don't you agree? Just a few things get me riled up. But oh boy, when I get riled up, I go all out. I'm sure it's plain to see that dog poop makes it near the top of my list. I'm not a dog lover -- or a dog hater. I'm pretty indifferent. I like other people's dogs as long as they don't lick my face. In general, cleaning up anyone's or anything's poop is not one of my favorite activities. How about you?

Recent events have caused my blood pressure to go sky high. I'll explain but let's start with this one:

CTH was two and I was as big as a whale with BBH in my tummy. One afternoon, I pull onto our street and see a woman in a hover-round being pulled by her dog. My first judgmental thought is, "How lazy?! Get off your a-double-s and walk that poor dog." That was pretty mean. Maybe she has something wrong and she just wants her doggie to get some exercise. As she gets closer to the street corner, her dog wanders into my yard, MY yard. By this time, I've pulled into the driveway and am hurriedly yanking CTH from his car seat. Here's a tangent . . . it's summertime and the jasmine has brought out the bees. Bzzzzz, bzzzzz, bzzzz. I can't swat with CTH in my arms. Ouch! A bee stung me on the thigh. So now not only am I over swollen with pregnancy, my thigh skin reddens and distends until it looks ready to burst. All this happens in a matter of seconds but it is enough to put me over the edge as I see this abnormally large poodle with the Q-tip tail, shaved sides and curly pompadour doing his business in my grass . . . and the woman hovering away.

Me: Excuse me? Your dog just went poop in my yard.
Hover-round lady: Oh, is that a problem?
Me: Are you serious? You're kidding, right? My two year-old is going to run through this yard and through that dog crap and track it all in my house. So not only will I have to clean it out of the yard, I'll have to clean it off his shoes or his bare feet, then I'll have to clean it off all the floors inside. If that doesn't happen, the yard man is going to step in it or go over it on his lawn mower and spread it out over the yard some more. Then he'll have to clean his shoes and his lawn mower. Yes, it's a problem.
Hover-round lady: I'll come back to clean it up.

And she did . . . without the hover-round.

A couple weeks back, I was on a cardio kick so I started out on a long walk. I was out the door and down one block when I saw a woman standing with her dog in a neighbor's yard. Now I can't tell the difference between a man and a monkey from far away but as I was getting closer, I saw her kick something into my path on the street and then start walking my way.

Me: Did you just kick your dog's crap into the street?
Crap-kicking lady: It's better than leaving it in that person's yard.
Me: Seriously? How do you figure? You kicked it right into my path. If I hadn't seen you do that, I would've stepped right in it.
Crap-kicking lady: What do you want me to do? Put it in my pocket?

Holy mother of God. Did she really just say that to me?

Me: What do I want you to do?! I want you to be a considerate human being. I want you to be a responsible pet owner. I want you to bring something with you so you can pick up your dog's shit. And I want you to never walk your dog on my street again. 

Haven't seen her on the street again. But . . . she cleans herself up good. I almost didn't recognize her at my husband's holiday board meeting the next week! Yes, her husband is also on the board. She wouldn't make eye contact with me -- not that I was trying to catch her eye. I felt ashamed. Then I shook some sense into myself. I did nothing wrong (except maybe raise my voice.) It's not like I put shit  someplace where she could walk in it. But now that I had a name and address . . . she better watch out.