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I was out walking my dog around the block as the need arises. She's a bit picky and insists on finding the perfect spot, often pacing and sniffing, seeking a little cover among the bushes - out of modesty perhaps. Sometimes I think she scouts out spots on our walks for next time though I can never really be sure. What I do know is that she will squat and pee near any other dog's poop as a future message to any would-be trespassers on her turf. In any case, she had picked a spot on the lawn across the street a little off from the sidewalk (she's sixty pounds of muscle and goes where she wants despite my efforts to reign her in) where she was pacing and sniffing. Along comes a gentleman from across the street and walks up to me. "Excuse me! Excuse me! You're not going to let your dog crap there, are you?" "Well she's got to go somewhere," I respond. "Yeah, but you can't just go walking up to people's houses and let her crap on their lawns! Someone lives here!" And I'm thinking, do you live here? No, you don't. You know how I know? Because this is church property. Now I'm no historian or even religious but from what I recall of grade 7 history class, the government of Upper Canada gifted the church with one seventh of the land being given away to settlers as a means of supporting themselves and further making it tax free. Now, technically this makes the land private property. Yet, I feel a strong sense that land owned by the church is the land of God (that I don't believe in) and that I have every right to traipse across it as I please since God doesn't seem all that interested in personally mowing the lawn (and further that my tax money goes to mow the lawn in some roundabout kind of way). And lastly, I don't think God would mind terribly if one of his creatures responded to a natural urge.
By this point the stranger is huffing away to a car and I wonder if he was in a car when he saw me and stopped and further wonder what kind of person has the nerve, the gall, the lack of things to do, the verve, the balls and the lack of social skills to get out of a passing car to confront a simple man walking his dog over the dog's choice on toilets. Apparently however the dog was embarrassed by the man's speech or at least his watchfulness and decided not to poop there but rather around the corner.
Because this is at least the fourth time someone has confronted me about my dog's daily routine as though they themselves don't shit and stink up the house and because the next time I want to ask them if they would rather she shit in their house and we can arrange that, these poop obsessed civilians are douches.
For the record, I am a responsible pet owner.
