Friday, November 20, 2009

Barely a bagful.

This is a rant that only dog owners will truly appreciate. But anyone who enjoys hearing about my embarrassment will enjoy. (Thanks alot for your continued support.)
So, I'm walking the pup around the block since she is freaking out and this is the only legal means for me to calm her.
I am armed with my grocery bag in one hand and my little poop bag dispenser on her leash in the other hand. Two sets of bags are required as she often chooses to humiliate me several times in one outing. Thus requiring me to carry a larger bag in which to contain the many smaller bags.
She is my precious little princess, after all and I am but her humble servant.
My pup often evokes a response wherever she goes. Sometimes it's strangers commenting on her beauty (seriously, she's quite stunning), children wanting to pet the 'snow dog' or idiots who want to ask my favorite question: "Is that a wolf? It looks like a wolf." (Yes, it is a wolf. Hungry for the blood of all those who think they deserve to be on top of the food chain. Asshole.)
Most of the time, she simply gets responses from all the dogs we pass. She apparently causes quite a stir in these animals as they can not refrain from barking and lunging at her. She, of course, is oblivious. Partly because she is hard of hearing but mostly because she feels superior to them. In her mind, the peasants should want her to acknowledge them, but she has better things to do. They are so not worthy of her attention.
Sometimes when the dog trying to get her attention is bigger and more snarly than she is, it makes her a little nervous. I think it's PTSD from her previous attacks (stupid neighbor and his vicious dog).
During these flashback episodes, she resorts to her only tactic - marking of the territory. In my mind, if a big, snarly dog is lunging and threatening to come through the screen door, we move quickly. Dillydallying is not the answer. For me, anyway.
The princess sees it differently. She chooses to antagonize the dog further by strolling along nonchalantly, peeing and pooping to her heart's content. 'Take that, you stupid mutt!'
Today is no different. As we approach one particular house, the owner is wise enough to shove his 300 pound (seriously, 300 pounds!) attack dog into the house. Because of course, if you own such a dog, you would let it hang out leash free in the front yard. Why not? (Jackass!)
As the snarly beast is barking and growling and throwing himself against the screen door in an attempt to escape and eat my princess, the owner is chatting away on his cell on the porch. (Hey, asshole, end the conversation and contain your beast! Cesar would so not approve.)
My little princess chooses to retaliate by pooping.
As the mommy who is already holding a full bag of poop, I know she is pretty much empty. I also know that while in flashback mode, she often squirts without really leaving much behind. (I know, graphic. But this is what dog moms have to deal with. We don't have diapers or changing tables - all of our poop contact is on public display.)
She can't help it. It's kind of a nervous thing. Like a twitch or a stutter, but less endearing. And much less ladylike.
So, my princess begins her 'squat walk', because she can't poop in one spot. Ever. She squat-walks for the entire length of this guy's house. I'm trying to move her along, because of the snarly beast and all, but she's not having it. Squat and waddle.
I know she's not really doing anything. Not anything bag worthy, anyway. Not anything I'm willing to sacrifice my life for (snarly beast and all).
Somehow, cell phone jackass sees it differently. He has somehow seen a bag worthy deposit and chooses to point it out to me. Only after we've reached the end of his yard, of course. Bastard.
So, I am forced to bend over and scoop what turns out to be primarily a big clump of this guy's grass (not enough to leave a bald spot on his lawn even though I tried). God forbid that his superior feet get soiled when he's picking up his mail. Like one miniscule spot of poop (seriously small, like I've seen bigger wooly worms small) on his lawn is going to ruin his life. I mean, come one, it's not even a scoop worthy of me cracking my knees for. For crying out loud.
But, whatever. I sacrificed my dignity for the sake of the princess. As I often do. And we went on our merry little way, me with poop in hand. Her with a smug little smile on her face.
I'm not sure if it was because she felt victorious over the snarly beast or if she just enjoyed my humiliation that much. I'm going with snarly beast victory. I have to have something to hold on to in my life. Besides poop.


  1. Suddenly I am very, very glad we went with cats... ;-)


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