She Can't Hardly Contain Herself

Every afternoon, I take Muzzy for a short walk around the block before I feed her some dinner. It's usually pretty hot outside and there's nobody around, so I often let her walk off-leash. Lately, one of our neighbors has been out in her yard at the same time. Each time Muzzy sees this neighbor, she gallops up her, her tail spinning, as if this woman were her long-lost mama.  Muzzy soaks up some goo-goo talk then dashes back to the sidewalk, races past me, and, a few yards down, takes an enormous dump.

The first time this happened, the neighbor was amazed. She had gotten into her car and was driving past just as Muzzy was getting to work. The woman rolled down her window and said, "I didn't know I had that effect on her." Apparently it was quite a stimulating effect. I laughed it off at first. But this greet-n-poop dynamic has occurred twice in the past week. I'm getting kind of embarrassed about it. When I told the woman's daughter this story, she said, "That's okay. My mother has that effect on me, too."

The idea that certain people make other people want to poop is an old joke. In fact, I came across this anecdote in Lincoln, a biography of the U.S. President written by David Herbert Donald (Simon & Schuster, 1995). According to Donald, Lincoln liked to tell this story when there were no ladies in the room.

[Lincoln] recounted an anecdote he attributed to Colonel Ethan Allen, famed for his role in the American Revolution. Allegedly making a visit to England after the war, Allen found his hosts took great pleasure in ridiculing Americans, and George Washington in particular, and, to irritate their guest, hung a picture of the first President in the toilet. (In telling the story, Lincoln called it 'the Back House.') Allen announced that they had found a very appropriate place for the picture, because 'there is nothing that will Make an Englishman Shit so quick as the sight of Genl Washington.'"

It makes me smile to think that our sixteenth President liked to tell a story like that one, but Muzzy and I are definitely taking a new route on our afternoon walk for a while.
-z

In the Bag, Part 2

Okay, everybody. Settle down, please. Let's continue our survey of poop-scooping bags. Today we will consider the ubiquitous newspaper bag.

Every day, thousands of these babies show up in driveways all around the city, even when it is not raining. I think that they are the perfect size for poop pick-up—although my neighbor who has big hands and a giant Labrador says that only the Sunday newspaper bags will work for him. The newspaper bags are deep enough so that you can tie up the bags nicely and have a decent sized knot to hang on to while walking. 

Pluses: Free with every newspaper. You are reusing a bag that really was conceived for a one-time use. The bags are deep, and they fold flat, so no bulky pockets. 

Drawbacks: Holes, as always, especially when the newspaper guy or gal stuffs a Sunday paper in a weekday-sized bag. Also, most of these bags are clear and revealing—not for the squeamish. (Squeamish? Dog owners can't afford to be squeamish.) Again, not biodegradable.

The New York Times bag, a subset of the newspaper bag. A personal favorite. 

Pluses: It is a pretty blue. It provides privacy. It announces to the world that you are an intelligent reader and probably an ace at crosswords (I wish; I can only do Mondays, Tuesdays if I cheat.) It glides neatly through a belt loop for easy carrying.

Minuses: The paper that comes inside it costs about three times as much as the ones that come in the clear bags. And—you know it—holes from when the newspaper guy or gal hurls your highfalutin' blue bag into the shrubbery. "Let's see how much you really want to read all the news that's fit to print."

The produce bag. Is this bag facing extinction? At the market where I buy my veggies, shoppers have the privilege of weighing their own stuff and printing out price stickers. Many folks I know don't bag their produce; they just throw half a dozen apples onto the conveyor belt and hand the cashier the stickers. Other stores, like the Wheatsville Co-op, provide paper sacks for produce instead of plastic. In any event, these bags have the same issues as newspaper sacks. 

Pluses: Roomy, and free with purchase. Rarely have holes unless you have purchased some particularly pointy carrots or a pineapple.

Drawbacks: Not opaque (although the ones from Randalls and HEB are somewhat filmy). Somewhat bulky when stored. Alas, not biodegradable.

So whatever your choice, please keep in mind that others at the Park may need some prodding. You can help by bringing your extra bags to the Dog Park. A thoughtful person (not moi, but thanks for asking) tacked a plastic bin to the telephone pole in the north parking lot for the purpose of holding bags. Just tuck your bags in there and then feel free to yell at people who don't pick up after their dogs. 

Note: I would like to thank several friends at Dog Park who supply me and my dog family with plenty o' free bags. Thank you for reading newspapers and eating vegetables and sharing the spoils with Roma and Muzzy. You are good people. 

Coda: A pet peeve. 

People who scoop the poop and then leave the bags lying on the ground. Here's an example. In this case, the dumpster is about thirty feet away. Yet many of us regular Parkers have seen neatly tied bags strewn all about the Park. Who is supposed to pick these up? The Park Ranger? Security? The janitor? ("Wet clean-up in aisle 3, under the 'No Dumping'sign!") Kudos to all those who, in frustration, have picked up bags left behind. 

--zia

In the Bag, Part 1

Good morning, everyone. It's a lovely day, so let's talk about poop, shall we? The number one complaint at Dog Park concerns poop pick-up—the lack thereof. Most Parkers scoop the poop. Those that don't tend not to care that the rest of us are glaring at him or her. "It's fertilizer" is the excuse I often hear. Well, I don't care to eat anything fertilized with dog poop, thank you very much, so pick it up. With that thought in mind, here is a primer of tools we can use in the matter of scooping. 

Many people choose to use the store-bought poop bags. They come in rolls, like garbage bags, often with a handy carrying case, like this one. The last time I bought some of these, they were impregnated with a floral scent that made the car smell nice but not the Kleenex in my pockets. 

Pluses: They are opaque and roomy. They are compact. Often they smell nice. Some are biodegradable. They often come with a case that can be velcroed to a leash or belt loop. Handy!

Drawbacks: You pay money for them. Not all are made of recycled plastic. If you suffer from chapped hands in the winter, the bags are nearly impossible to extract from the roll and open easily. Also, the bags are slippery, so I tend to drop and lose them on the walk. 

The plastic grocery bag. This is my personal favorite. It's roomy. It's opaque (so no one can see your dog's business). I particularly like the loopy handles, which allow me to tied the bag securely and then hang the bag from my wrists—important on neighborhood walks when I have two leashes and at least two bags to deal with. 

Pluses: These bags are free. It's recycling--or at least reusing--when these bags are used for poop pick-up. Opacity, yes! Loopy handles, yes!

Drawbacks: Holes! These bags are prone to tearing during their original workout as grocery sacks.  What a downer when your fingers go through the bag. Also, the bags are bulky. I walk around Dog Park looking a bit lumpy when my pockets are stuffed with crumpled grocery sacks. Also, not biodegradable.

I will discuss more options tomorrow. I know you can't wait! Keep scooping! --z