Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Trouble on the Poop Deck

When my lab mix, Gamble, was just a pup she couldn’t hold her potty all night. I’d have to walk down the three flights of stairs and out my apartment door two, three times a night so she could do her business before we could get back to bed. One night, I was particularly exhausted and it was raining so I just didn’t feel like taking her all the way out. I knew we had some large planters on our deck, so I decided I’d just let her do her business there and pick it up in the morning. (Before you judge, I was exhausted and my brain was not in superior working condition. It may not have been the best idea but hey, I was desperate to get back to bed as quickly as possible.)

She must have REALLY needed to go that night because she bolted out of the house and through a small opening onto our neighbor’s deck. As I peered helplessly over the fence, I watched in horror as she popped a squat and let it rip. I crossed my fingers and prayed the neighbors weren’t up. As quickly as she took off, she returned with a new bounce in her step, proud of herself for making it outdoors just in time.

I debated what to do next. Leave it there? Would they know who the culprit was? Would they assume a wild animal dropped this deuce? Perhaps a wily cat, a mischievous squirrel, or even maybe a rascal of a raccoon? I shook off this irresponsible, wishful thinking and – at 2am in the morning – grabbed a bag and hopped over the half wall to pick up the poo, only to realize in picking it up that poo kind of sticks to stucco patio. I shortly returned wet paper towel in hand to finish the job, all the while hoping that no one was up at this God forsaken hour to catch a glimpse of what would look like me breaking into my neighbor’s apartment. (No officer, I was just cleaning up the poo…right) I was quiet, I was slow moving, I was stealth all in good measure because I made it back to my bed unscathed and uncaught. After washing my hands, of course.

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