Ssh... Do You Smell Something?

There's dog poo, fresh from the oven, in my yard and I'm all fired up about it. I sit in my kitchen most of the day with my 9-month-old son, surrounded by windows - big ones that allow me a view of all who pass by and let their beautiful, pedigreed dogs stop to smell the flowers and crap all over my yard. It's on our walkway, in front of the mailbox, on the curb, one the corner of the driveway, on the rock pile, and ALWAYS in the exact same spot on which I am about to step... And if this was the only crap I had to deal with, it might not be so bad. But I have 2 cats, one of which poops in the hallway when she's mad. And a baby. And a dog who poos in the backyard. I have my fill of poo. I don't need any more. So it should be no surprise when I say that all of this extraneous poo is pissing me off.

My husband and I are not avid gardeners. We are what you would call slack asses when it comes to yard work. We're also living in my mother's house while she's away indefinitely, and her yard is absolutely wild. Not quite Grey Gardens wild, but a close second. When we do get outside, we do a bang-up job getting the yard in shape, but getting out there is almost half the hardship. It could be that I'm looking for an excuse for not doing more yard work but I could dig it more if it meant NOT tromping through someone else's dog poo...

You know how neighbors acquire titles or reputations? The family that gives boxes of raisins for Halloween? The woman who hollers at cars to slow down? I'm the one-woman poo-patrol. And it's becoming an obsession. I've talked to the family with the golden lab about cleaning up after he squats on top of our bushes (the grandmother informed me she lets the dog out but she herself "does not do dog poop."). And the professional dog walker who let her charge waltz up our walkway, onto the rockery, and bear down on top of my budding crocuses. In broad daylight! (Okay, I yelled at her and it felt reeeeeeally good.) But it didn't seem to make a lick of difference.

My initial knee-jerk reaction was to post signs in the yard. A neighbor in mind had one that read,

"Here he lies, cold and hard.
The last dog that pooped in my yard."

Too cute. And I remember seeing a ton of poo in front of the sign. I don't wish to incite a backlash of vindictive poopers, which I'm sure such a clever sign would. Instead I thought of a dozen or so extremely offensive signs, all of which contained the words "dogsh*t" and "a**hole". Honestly, you'd think my husband would have a better sense of humor about it (because I didn't). So quite obviously, I didn't post them. What I eventually printed and laminated (because I am one of those people who now owns a laminating machine) read,

"Enjoy stepping in dog poop?
Neither do we.
Be responsible.
Clean up after your dog."

It was a little wordy. And I'm generally not ballsy enough to post it in the yard. Besides, it might look a little tacky.

I enlisted friends to come up with alternative methods to deter others from letting their dogs go number two (and BIG number twos as it is) in our yard and not cleaning it up. We could set out plastic bags and a garbage pail, but the whole idea is that I should not, under any circumstances, have to clean up after anyone else's animal.

A dear friend from high school, I will call her "Indy," had the most creative, daring and ingenious design. First, I should track down where the errant owners live, like a stake-out. Then, when they least expect it, take a picture of my husband taking a crap in their yard and post it (life-size) on their beautifully manicured, palatial front lawns. Just so they would know how it feels. (Thank you, Indy! I feel your love!) Needless to say, I laughed so hard I almost pooped my own pants.

In the end, my husband and I decided that the most direct (albeit passive aggressive) approach would be to simply throw all of the poo into the street. Maybe the repeat offenders haven't come by yet, maybe they walked through it and got the picture, maybe the street sweeper got to it before anyone else. But we haven't seen anymore poo in our yard, and either way, that's fine with me. Until next time...