This council has regulations regarding dog walking.
One of them is to take a plastic bag and pick up the poop.
So if you walk the dog all the way to the park and back past my house, why in the hell don't you keep going with the plastic bag to your house instead of propping the poop in the crook of the tree on my nature strip?
There are some who don't bother with the plastic bag but sneak out in the night to visit poop central. Once you could safely walk the footpaths with your eyes closed but not any more. And I worry about a dog that can't hold on long enough to reach the grass. Is it being dragged along without a pit stop?
We never had this problem and every house had a dog but it pooped inside the boundary and we buried it in a corner of the garden. Of course if you choose to live in an Australand shoe box, after a while you'd be pooped out of garden.
So it gets me thinking of 'Teh Olden Days". The days of dogs, horses and humans and outhouses and horse manure, dog poop and filthy footpaths and long sweeping skirts. The rich walked straight from the front door to the carriage. The rest walked along gathering crap like street sweepers and no holding up the skirt, not a glimpse of ankle or one was marked as not quite the lady. They did have dust ruffles sewn along the bottom of the skirt which was emptied like a dust buster or the lady's maid would remove the dirty ruffle and replace it with a clean one.
Well, you all know my mind enough by now to know that all I could think about on the way back from the coffee shop was dust ruffles full of dog poop. And don't get me started thinking about those damn deep treads in jogging shoes.
Spring is really here, daylight saving and my first cockroach in the junkmail.
And some sort of football ended.
12 comments:
There is a rotten little rat dog that lives in our street - its owners call it a chi-wawa. It is never, ever confined to its yard and wanders the neighbourhood yapping and crapping (in equal measures). So those of us who are sick of it, get our own plastic bags, collect its crap, tie the bag up and put it in the owner's letterbox. Petty vengeance I know, but satifying. And don't talk to me about the council. They have been out to that dog many, many times.
I love the vengeance of El Chi's neighbourhood and don't think it is 'petty' at all, just deeply deeply satisfying.
Nothing can equal human cruelty. People kick, starve and abandon dogs all over this city. While they themselves spit, vomit and shit their pants.
I know what company I can rely on. Without dogs my life would be halved.
Ha Ha @EC, I love it! I used to walk out onto my front lawn at the other place and occasionally find a "gift" from someone's little darling, but never knew where it came from, or I might have done the same thing.
Years ago, here in Adelaide, there was a company that sold dog toilets, some kind of chemical disposal unit, pipe shaped, it was buried in the ground so that just the lid was accessible, and you scooped the poop and dropped it in there to keep your yard clean. They came in various sizes to suit different sized dogs. I don't know if they're still around, I can't remember what the company was called.
I like the poo bag in the letterbox education campaign. It's elegant.
I live on the corner of a lane and had an "no speak English" old drunk pissing on my side fence every week. He lived around the corner and I'd have stuffed him into his letter box except that his son was a decent bloke.
If I ever got dog shit in my letter box I'd laugh and toss it straight onto the street, as a fairytale of revenge it's a smug, bourgeois spineless reaction typical of poison-pen writers and sneaks.
EEk! The deep treads on runner once you've stood in the damn stuff, impossible to get out, ick.
Some mongrel down the street used to walk his monster animal (that could flatten an elephant) and would open our gate for the bloody thing to crap in our garden at about 5am, until we started lobbing the damn stuff in plastic bags over into his garden.
I must have missed you at Southland on Thursday, we woz there tripping about, too!
When you're walking a dog you can't control where it has a shit, you can't say "shit here" and it'll have a shit. How ignorant. Dogs enjoy a piss more than a shit but no one complains about that. The ignorant old bastard who regularly pissed on my fence knew better but a dog wouldn't. I'm more offended by the crap seated at footpaths all around inner Melbourne: bourgeois atheist public servant crappers all fearsomely alike. They are dog haters. If they ever get a dog it's worth hundreds, sometimes thousands, so they can pose along Chapel street teaching the thing manners. And it will be a dog like the fancified fluffed up Liberace of a thing Prime Minister Emu got given for her birthday by her de facto.
I can put my dog in someone's front yard and say "shit" and it'll look at me in astonishment, much the way dogs look at the freaks instructing them along Chapel Street.
Grow up.
hahahahahahahahahaha too much funny
EC, there's nothing like petty vengeance to soothe the soul. A little dog can give a nip as much as a big one.
Robbert, the difference is that you love your dogs. There are some people who shouldn't be in charge of a tadpole let alone a dog.
River, with three dogs and 4 cats at the same time I could have done with something like that.
Even better Bear, pick up all the neighbourhood crap and dump it in their letterbox.
Jayne, greyhounds excrete their weight in poop. One walker around here has a great dane and she carries plastic shopping bags to pick up.
Sorry I missed you at Southland, you would be the fat tart slapping people with a white stick and I'd so love to see that.
Robbert, it's manners to pick it up but we all know manners are in short supply for the upper crust.
"And some sort of football ended"
Oh, that was what all that noise was about then?
w/v = "foxigli"
Helen, the unfortunate thing is that now, unlike the distant past, the damn stuff keeps on going. Once it stopped and a month later cricket started, now it goes it goes it goes.
Post a Comment