Tag: life

I do not understand humans.

Specifically, I do not understand their obsession with poop.

I poop.

This is not news.

I have been doing it my entire life.

I find a suitable location.

I sniff.

I circle.

Sometimes I reconsider.

I sniff somewhere else.

I circle again.

Eventually, I poop.

Then, to properly memorialize the occasion,

I kick a little grass and dirt in its general direction with my hind legs.

A marker, if you will.

My work here is done.

As far as I am concerned, my responsibilities have now been fulfilled.

But apparently, this is when Management’s responsibilities begin.

She follows behind me carrying a roll of little pink bags

specifically designed for poop.

Think about that.

Humans manufacture special bags.

For poop.

Then they BUY the special bags.

For poop.

Then they carry the special bags around waiting for someone to poop.

And when I finally do,

Management puts her HAND inside one of those bags,

PICKS UP THE POOP,

turns the bag inside out,

ties it in a little knot –

and carries it around with her.

Humans are disgusting.

Now, Management and I –

try to walk about two miles out on the big road in the mornings.

She calls it exercise.

I call it a S’Walk.

Short for Sassy Walk –

because I think most words short start that way.

I have four legs and am an athlete.

Management… does her best.

The problem is that sometimes I poop early in the walk.

Management apparently does not enjoy carrying a warm, fragrant

little bag for the rest of the S’Walk.

Frankly, this is the first sensible thing she has ever said

about the entire process.

So she has developed a “system”.

She bags my contribution,

leaves the little pink bag somewhere she will see it,

and picks it up on our way back home.

I don’t understand why we picked it up in the first place

if we’re just going to put it back down.

But nobody asks me.

This morning, we followed the usual procedure.

I pooped.

Management bagged.

Management deposited.

We continued our S’WALK.

Short for Sassy Walk –

I think most words should start that way.

And when we came back…

MY POOP WAS GONE.

Someone had taken it.

A neighbor had apparently seen my little pink bag

and disposed of it.

Wait.

Are there POOP POLICE?

Is this a thing?

Because now I have even more questions.

Why did another human want my poop?

Was it bothering them?

Did they think Management had abandoned it?

Was it interfering with the natural beauty of our little gravel road?

Or…

and I don’t want to alarm anyone –

is there a black market

for high-quality Wonderdog poop

that I have not been told about?

Because if somebody is making money from this,

I want treats.

Management, meanwhile, was horrified.

She immediately began explaining to absolutely no one

that she had been coming back for it.

She would NEVER leave a poop bag on the side of the road.

She is a RESPONSIBLE DOG OWNER.

She has a SYSTEM.

I let her continue.

Because I would like the record to reflect

that I personally fulfilled every single one of my responsibilities

in this matter.

I found an appropriate location.

I pooped.

I even marked the occasion.

Everything that happened after that was a Management decision.

So, to whichever neighbor “policed” the little pink bag this morning:

Thank you.

Management really was coming back for it.

And if you happen to see another one alongside our road someday,

please don’t be alarmed.

It isn’t litter.

It isn’t abandoned.

It is apparently part of a highly sophisticated

waste-management system.

I don’t understand it either.

I am a very good girl. 🐾

— Sassy