Collecting Canine Crap

One a day for all of May...

I have the given responsibility of going into our backyard and removing our dog's poo. Yes, that is my job. I am the Poo Man. Dog Poo Man. I slowly walk around in the backyard, meticulously combing through the grass looking for canine excrement. And when I find it, I reach down and grab it through the back of a plastic bag. I feel the texture (sometimes the warmth, depending on how fresh), though there is no direct contact with skin and poo. All that to say, it is a pretty terrible job to do. But so they say - someone has to do it.

Today as I was walking around in the backyard Poo-Pooin (as I call it), I couldn't help but notice our dog watching me do this. She just sits there at a comfortable, poo-safe distance watching me clean up her waste. And I had to wonder what in the world was going through her mind. Was she embarrassed? You know, "Matt, I'm really sorry that you have to do this. I feel really awful, seriously. I hate that I can't take advantage of the indoor plumbing." Or was it rather more sinister - a subtle snickering under her breath as she surveys me collecting her crap?

And I had to wonder - what would go through my mind if I had to sit there and watch someone pick up my #2 through a plastic bag? And an idea struck me. I can do this. I can accomplish this and see how I might react. I think I am going to 'take my business to the backyard' and make Kathryn clean it up and see what happens.