Tail of the great manure skirmish

There’s an old nursery rhyme that opines girls are “sugar and spice”, but boys are composed of “snails and puppy dog tails”. Another version implies that older women have more complicated stuff within them. While the unknown author may have been amused, it was this rhyme that came to mind on my dog-walk this afternoon. Dexter, Comet and I were ambushed by a irate woman who claimed “for years” she has watched me walk my dogs into the grassy hills where they “poop all over” and allegedly I do nothing about it. All I could think, “was she talking to me?” There are dog walkers of all sorts within an eighth of a mile in all directions. I have talked with them for years as we cross paths.

Waving my poop bags at her, I first tried to say she was mistaken. Then I said I walk these dogs with these poop bags full and disposed of them appropriately. A few other protests fell on unreasoned ears; I lost my reasonable and pleasant nature. It was when she said her “husband had laid all the decomposed granite walk”, and clean up repeatedly after “my” dogs, that I waved the “horse-pucky” flag. (The area in question lies beyond our (both of us) county demarcation line, and within the township of Santee.) Eminent domain laid claim to the hills ten or more years ago, bulldozing and blasting the granite ridge to build a large Santee subdivision. And the land she laid claim as her husband’s. The only thing the county residents like me got from that urban renewal were gophers. Thousands of them descending into our yards.

Now I have to go wash out my Navy Chief potty-mouth and repent to Jesus. Suffice it to say, that “neighbor” and I have a difference of opinion. Yet she offended my sense of dog-man honor. She is probably a disgruntled Trump fan.

He’s not a dog-person either.