When you assume, you make an ass of you and me. We’ve all heard it, right? Oh, one of you hasn’t. Well, let me break it down then. Assume: ass = you + me. Easy enough, right?And yet, someone made me an ass this afternoon with their stupid assumption.
First off, let me give you some background, Chris and I have lived in my apartment for three years now. The past two years we’ve had Maris with us. For those of you who don’t know me or haven’t seen my Instagram, she’s the great big, red, Rhodesian Ridgeback spoiled, princess puppy who has made me a pawrent. We run five mornings a week, we do walks before I leave for work, when I come home from lunch, an evening walk, and Chris takes her out when he gets home from work as well. We’re a pretty visible little family.
So this morning, like every other morning for over two years, I walk out my driveway. Only, I get 50 feet down the block before a neighbor woman (who I have never met somehow) walks out of her house. Upon seeing us walking, she says, “Are you going to pick up her poo?” This is randomly out of the blue, asking a pawrent while they’re walking their dog – doing nothing to precipitate this – just coming out making assumptions and judging.
I grabbed my poo bag out of my pocket (glad it wasn’t one of those few times I rushed out of the house and prayed she’d hold it in before I got to Penny Lane to grab a bag from a dispenser), shook it at her and said “Yes.”
Instead of at least commending me for excellent parenting responsibilities, she then proceeds to launch into a diatribe about how she parks her car on the street and has to be careful she doesn’t step in dog poo.
“That’s why I have one of these every time I walk her,” I said annoyed.
Now I do understand where she’s coming from. Chris parks on the street, occasionally out driveway is blocked and I have to as well. But does that give her the right to accuse me of not picking up after my dog?
Before you answer that let me ask present you with this scenario: You’re walking down the street. It’s hot so you have a water bottle to drink from when someone stops you and asks you if you plan on throw away your water bottle, litter, or recycle.
Or how about this: You’re talking to your mother on your phone leaving the grocery. You hang up the phone and start putting groceries in your car when someone asks you if you’re going to text and drive.
That takes a lot of energy to worry about someone else’s purported future actions and be the morality police for everyone you meet. Because I was simply walking my dog, I was instantly judged as guilty by this woman. Imagine what her life must be like, to instantly mark people as guilty. Does she drive by the liquor store and automatically assume anyone coming out of the liquor store is an alcoholic? Does she see the mailman as a potential thief since they’ll know when she’s out of town? These assumptions, while correct for a few, do not correctly describe the people doing these everyday things.
If my dog was in the middle of pooing and she didn’t see a bag in my hand or that I was looking for a bag, this would be a completely different story. I’ve offered my bags to people and have pointed out where poo bag dispensers are located. I have made the mistake before of running out of the house without a bag, thinking it’s not her normal time of day to poo, so I’ll be okay. And she’s pooed on me. So I appreciate a helping a bag if I did forget mine.
Let’s forget that picking up poo is the right thing to do and look at poo as a whole. Leaving poo on the ground is unhygienic. First off, let’s like at what’s in poo. It’s literally shit your body said, “Yeah, this isn’t working for me, so we’re going to get rid of it.” So if your body doesn’t want it, there’s a reason for that. And then it sits and flies gather around, and it smells. Those are just some of the common courtesy to reasons to pick up your poo.
But the biggest reasons to pick up your poo are health reasons (which should be a given since your body already said “no” to that shit). Forget about pinkeye, poo contains giardia, roundworms, salmonella, and E.coli as well as parvovirus and coronavirus. If an unvaccinated puppy contracts pardon, their chances for survival are slim. Puppies can receive vaccines for pardon, but the shots are taken in different rounds as the puppy ages.
Other than it is just plain common decency to pick up your dog’s poo, it’s insuring other animals in the neighborhood stay healthy too. It’s very hygienic. Sine my hair was wet from showering, that should be a point for me in the hygienic department. But no, my wet locks were completely ignored.
So if it’s the decent, hygienic thing to do, that means it is the responsible thing to do. That in a nutshell is why I’m so mad. Chris and I are good pawrents. Chris, a chef, researches what foods are best for him to cook in her food. Yes, a chef cooks her food. Not only that, but he uses only organic products (locally grown if he can) with grass-fed beef. He cooks down bone broth that we add to her dry food (Origen’s b/c that’s the only food the chef will allow her to eat) in the mornings. He also makes sure she gets a small amount of blueberries to promote her urinary tract. At night, she eats his food.
For my part, I wake up at 5 am four days a week to take her for 4-5 mile runs. She loves running and looking for squirrels and rabbits. I take her for walks before I leave for work, I walk her when I come home for lunch, and I walk her at night. I make sure this dog gets plenty of exercise.
As far as on an emotional level, I would bet this 2-year-old dog gets as much attention as a toddler does from his parents. She’s 75 pounds, and when I come home, she plops herself down in my lap. She sleeps in our bed. Yet, she knows she has to sit and have manners when it comes to dinner time. We try really hard to be good pawrents, to recognize her needs, and then do everything in our power to exceed those needs.
Having to ask if I pick up my dog’s poo insinuates that I don’t understand the responsibilities of pet ownership and recognizes me as irresponsible. It diminishes me as a pawrent.
With that said the moral of the story is: Worry about yourself unless you see said action happening (and then offer a bag).
P.S. My poo bag ended up in my trashcan. My mother taught me a thing or two.
