Did I get your attention with the title? I’m sure I did. You’re reading this now.
I had to laugh when I was writing this story. Just the title itself makes me laugh. It’s not every day you see a story named like this.
I tried to figure out how to stretch this story longer but it’s hard to figure out a bunch of words with some of these subjects.
An elderly couple bought the house to the north of my place. It was a three bedroom, two bath with a two-car garage and a screened-in patio in the rear. They were in their seventies. They both had gray hair. The man wore glasses. They became friends with “The Van Guy”. They were snowbirds and only lived there for six months out of the year. They lived in Michigan the other six months.
They had a dog. It was a small dog. I can’t remember the color and breed. They would walk it multiple times a day just like every other person who owns a dog does all the time. But this was different. Instead of taking the dog down the sidewalk, they would come over to my front yard.
You know where this is going right? You should with the title.
Each day I would find a mound in the front yard. If you look at the photo, it was in the yard near the tree. So it was the grass closest to the road.
They would never let their dog go to the bathroom in their yard. Dogs apparently don’t like to go in their own yard anyway. It was always mine. It got bad. How bad?
This is how bad. I confronted them when they were getting ready to go out in their car. I told them to stop walking their dog in my yard and letting it go to the bathroom. They told me, to my face, that it didn’t happen. Then as I’m standing on the sidewalk, they walked the dog into my front yard and had it go poop. They didn’t pick up after it.
What happened next is probably going to surprise you but I was furious with these people. You can only push a person so far.
I ran into my garage and got the shovel. I picked up the poop and as they were backing out, I threw the poop into their driveway. LOL!!!!!🤣🤣
They didn’t ever do it again. I guess they didn’t like it in their driveway either. If they would have just picked it up, I wouldn’t have had a problem.
Shortly after this, they went back to Michigan. Then a few months later, the wife came back and told The Van Guy across the street that her husband had passed away. I could hear her say that he always liked him.
A few months later, the house was sold again.
Conclusion
To all those dog walkers and owners out there, please pick up after your pet.
I live in a condo now, so you would think I don’t come across any “crap” anymore but you would be mistaken. They have actual dog stations where people can get free bags to pick up their dog’s business and baskets to deposit them in. Do they use them? Yes and No. 90% of the time they use the bags and drop it in there after use. Once in a while, I come across someone who has not used the stations or has not used their own bag. I have seen little mounds and huge mounds (definitely big dog). I don’t know how these people can do that. If they don’t want to pick it up, then don’t have a dog. I think it is the people who live in the adjacent apartment buildings. Ever since they built those inside our condo area, we have had problems.
Until next time, happy reading!
-Matt
Unfortunately this is a worldwide problem. I walk dogs, lots of dogs. I always carry bags with me and pick up and bin their poos. The worst offenders when it comes to not cleaning up are Men with Big Dogs. I think they think that poos are a woman’s business. Motherly stuff you know, not a man’s business. And they’re so blatant about it! Grrrrrr.... A pet peeve of mine as you can see.
Yup, you certainly got my attention, Matt! Great story!
Uncollected dog poo is an absolute scourge - just a few irresponsible dog owners mess things up (literally) and cast the decent ones in a bad light.
I've never had a dog, nor has my family, but from a very early age I knew to watch where I was walking. The first time I ever went to the USA, aged seven, I saw the art of picking up after your dog for the very first time - and it was so unknown to me that I didn't realise what I was looking at. Outside my uncle's apartment building was a small boy and a large dog, and the boy was holding what I thought at the time was an open polythene bag of fresh sausages.
'Mummy, why's that boy holding sausages like that? They're not even covered up!'
'Those aren't sausages, darling. That's dog poo.'
After the trip and back at school the following week, I was tasked with writing a report about what I'd done on holiday. Never mind my trips to the top of the Empire State Building and Liberty's crown: my report was mostly about how 'Americans pick up dog poo'!
I'm glad to say that it became common practice on these shores not long afterwards - and those who don't do it at least KNOW THAT THEY SHOULD.