Things that Irk Me Thursdays

Today while walking home from the L Train in the misty spitty gross rain that has taken over Manhattan making it look and seem more like Seattle or London rather than the City That Never Sleeps (although I’ve never been to either city) I saw a woman in the mist walking her lanky larger dog. The dog stopped on the corner of Metropolitan and Graham and squatted in that manner that dogs take when taking a shit.

It was a lanky dog; long lean body, long legs. It was white mostly with a few scattered larger spots-Not a Dalmatian. Most likely a mutt, and there’s nothing wrong with mutts. As I approached the dog it’s owner under her umbrella held her leash taut, impatient. As a New York dog owner once upon a time I looked for the telltale signs of a responsible owner-the plastic bag. It wasn’t in her hand. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, I assumed that the bag was in her jeans pocket.

I got closer and the dog finished taking its shit. I waited for the owner to bend down and do the deed herself. The crap wasn’t big-My Yorkie took larger craps than that large mutt produced. Instead of doing her deed as a responsible dog owner and law abiding New Yorker she walked away and left the two mini gerkin sized turds on the corner.

Seriously? Really? What the Fuck? This is the shit, no pun intended, that I’m talking about. I’ve been on many-a-walk with my little Yorkie when I think she’s done doing number twos and she has a surprise one in her. I’ve already used the baggie and I dig around in trash cans for potato chip bags or at the very least a large leaf to pick up the shit. It’s not fun, it smells, it’s shit for christsake but you do it because that’s what you do when you own a dog. You do not, no matter how large or small the shit, leave said shit on the street.


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