The Walk: Well, I was supposed to make it all the way to M & M's house, but karma intervened.
Distance: With the four blocks of doubling back, about 15 blocks.
Okay, so I was a bad dog owner.
My dogs are usually fairly routine in their business. The black dog seldom shits anywhere except in the back yards of the three houses he considers "home." The white dog, if walked at a certain time of day, will always shit as we pass the off-leash dog park; I suppose she is urged on by the wafting smell of the thousands of dogs who have shat there in the past. When we pass this park, I always pick up a bag from the dispenser because I know what to expect. Last night proved to be no exception. I felt like a good dog owner.
Until several blocks later, when she decided to take yet another dump, right on someone's lawn, of course, and me without bags. So, I didn't slow down. I just kept walking. It wasn't the nicest thing in the world for me to do, but it wasn't the worst either. I just hoped the shit landed on the lawn of someone who might understand. Boy, were those hopes dashed.
Several blocks later I was flagged down by a boy on a skateboard, who pointed behind me. I turned to see a very angry older woman bearing down on me. As soon as she noted the eye-contact, she said "Your dog just shit on my lawn! I was just cleaning! I am an old lady! How could you do this to me! You must come back with me an pick it up! How could you do such a thing! What kind of person are you!" As soon as she stopped to breath, I said "You're right. That wasn't very nice of me. Certainly I'll come back and pick it up." And I turned to accompany her back to the scene of my crime, for my penance.
As we walked back to her house, she marching ahead, the dogs and I walking behind at a pleasant pace, she kept turning back to continue her tirade against me, and this is where my equanimity began to turn to hatred. Again she told me that she was an old woman, and that people shouldn't do this to old women. She was 71 years old, and she had to follow me 3 blocks! I was thinking, "How could I have known you were old? Did you have a sign on your lawn I didn't see, which read 'Warning: Irate Older Woman Lives Here,' because that would have been helpful. And why is it any worse for me to let my dogs shit on an older person's lawn? And why can't you shut up? I'm coming back to pick up the fucking dog shit already!" We continued walking, and I said "I admire your fortitude."
Now, this may make me a despicable person, but ever since sixth grade I've found that an easy way to make stupid people shut up is to use words they don't know. Smart people will ask you what the word means. Stupid people will just look blankly at you. Perhaps she didn't know what "fortitude" meant, because she did shut up for half a block.
Then she criticized my parenting skills, abused my dogs and the size of their shit for a while, and said she was going to call the police. We finally arrived at her house.
After fetching me some bags, she stood over me, expressing a near-constant stream of verbal abuse, while I meticulously scraped up my dog's stinky shit from her yard. The lawn, I noted, was brown and patchy. She probably blames the condition of her lawn, I thought, on the evils of dogs and their negligent owners who allow them to do their business there. Every once in a while she'd break into her tirade to point out another microscopic spot of shit I had failed to remove properly. When I was done, she told me not to throw that stinky, disgusting shit into
her garbage. I was to walk along and find another garbage can to use. Then she told me to never walk my dogs past her house again.
I stood up and looked her in the eye. "Wait a minute," I said, "you have no right to tell me where I can and cannot walk my dogs. Next time I pass your house, however, I will be sure to have a bag with me."
"I hope you have learned your lesson," she said.
"I certainly have," I replied. "Thank you very much for teaching me this important lesson today, and I hope you have a pleasant remainder of your week"
And I continued on my walk.
awkward 5 minutes at the end of group work when the fast groups are done and slow ones are still working--what's a bored seventh grader in a fast group to do in this situation? Give back rubs, of course!) This girl was really getting into the back massage; I mean, she was using her elbows and everything. I was impressed.
