The details are not important, but Daughter has berated me into attempting to take up my end of the bargain again and continue to contribute “average” posts to this Blog so that hers, in comparison, seem erudite, hip, and just cool.
If there’s anything I recognize in life, it is my place in it these days.
Plus, she reminded me that the Blog has been in existence for a year now, so in tribute to the two Followers and six Additional Muggles who read my posts, here goes.
It is something of a daily right in our household to not only walk the dog twice a day, but also to determine the state of his intestinal health after the fact. It is a routine that disgusts Daughter, in particular, which means that her Mother and I enjoy it all the more. After all, DandyDog is firmly planted in his early elderly years, and we take an abiding interest in everything associated with his health.
Including his poop. An abiding interest.
So, a typical post-walk debrief might go something like this:
“Did the dog poop?”
“Yes. Yes, he did.”
“Was it a one-bagger or a two-bagger?”
“Well, he squeezed out an initial perfunctory poop since you (Daughter’s Mom) didn’t come along, but I made him keep walking and he did a second one later on.”
Then the fun starts, because what we’re all really after comes next.
After all, the most important thing next to the quantity of the poop is the quality.
“Was it firm, or was it mushy?”
And, of course, the answer depends on many factors — what Dandy ate for the day; how much cat poop he was able to sneak out of the cat box; whether he raided the kitchen trash can, etc.
But what we’re all after is that which indicates satisfactory canine gastric health: a firm, well-formed poop.
So it was not without some soul-searching the other night that I began to wonder about dog poop etiquette.
Don’t get me wrong. The overwhelming majority of dog walkers in our neighborhood are very responsible and conscientious owners. They walk their charges, armed to the teeth with poop bags, and for the number of dogs that live around here, we have a fairly poop-free environment most of the time.
My own etiquette dilemma concerned just how far into someone’s yard is it acceptable to allow your dog to do his or her business? I mean, I am going to pick it up anyway but I think the general rule of thumb (for most of the folks around here) is that it’s okay to allow your pooch to use a “leash length” to take care of necessities.
Any more than that seems like some kind of violation of propriety.
It comes as no surprise that our Dog apparently didn’t read the manual, didn’t get the memo, or was otherwise occupied when the information about pooping was passed around amongst his furry pals.
Two nights ago Dandy decided (and I allowed him to) break the rule and scamper up into someone’s yard, well beyond the normally accepted limits.
After a thorough exploration of the smells inhabiting the general vicinity, he decided to deposit his load.
Even though I quickly picked it up and we continued on our way, I couldn’t shake the notion that we had violated a fundamental tenet of Dogdom because we had strayed too far from the sidewalk.
But since it was nighttime, no one else witnessed the transgression.
I suppose it is something I will have to struggle with and eventually come to terms, since I have little else of real substance to occupy my brain these days.
I stopped trying to figure out the String Theory of the Universe years ago.
So it seems only fitting to celebrate one year of TheDailyTripBlog.com by writing about poop.
And if you were wondering, Dandy’s poop in this instance was firm and well-formed — not mushy at all.