A Doo-doo Don’t

I’m pretty sure I nailed the perpetrator of the turd line on my street.

She was ahead of me and my dog, and sure enough, as I turned the corner, the daily offering was there, in the gutter and on the lawn nearby. Fresh as a daisy, and full of that wonderful wet look that only a dog’s poop chute can provide.

This makes me so mad. Here is my plan list:

  1. Pick up the crap and bring it over to their block;
  2. Leave a plastic bag next to the line of dung with a note that they (the bags) work in cold weather as well;
  3. Bring the cocky to their lawn in a plastic bag and just leave it there.

I just don’t think it’s right that they have the impunity to treat us in the neighborhood with such disdain. I love dogs, but there are some around here who are allowed to be on really really bad behavior. And that is not right.

How about a “Don’t S–t On Me” sign to match the new ones recently put up “Don’t Tread On Me.” Well, there are substances that can’t and shouldn’t be tread on, so walk carefully out there.


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