Every morning me and my Buffa do the same walk – up the hill to ‘the Res’ for Buffamom to look out across the city and The Boy to snuffle along the railings for news of the night before (foxes and cats u know wot I mean) and then head off to bark at squirrels in the park. We pretty much take the same route every day and halfway up the hill my Boy does his Poo Poo cleverly in the gutter leaving his lovely steamy deposit for Mom to collect and swing along in its bag ’til we get to the doggie bin.
We can tell there are a few other Walkies that take the same route albeit at different hours because unfortunately they leave their smelly evidence behind and not in the gutter either.
Now don’t get me wrong, picking up the poop is a tricky business. You wouldn’t believe how many times I have carefully inverted a poo bag, aimed and scooped and STILL somehow got a stinky finger! But practise makes perfect and there really is no excuse for littering the local streets with poo parcels. How does the saying go? Even gangsters don’t s***t in their own backyard? It doesn’t rain often enough for them to get washed away plus two walks a day soon adds up to a lot of poo!
The thing that gets me most is that seeing as these regular poopers are leaving their guilty doodoos in the middle of the pavement they must literally have to dodge their own deposits from the day before! One time there was the same small little black lumps practically in a line all the way up the same bit of street, added to day after day! And then there are the ones left within feet of the doggie bin as if they will magically transport themselves in!
Me and Buffa can tell there are about 3 or 4 culprits. There is the aforesaid Small Round Blackie, and then the Medium Greenie and then finally there is the dreaded Big Red Mushy Poo, really soft and gooey, we reckon this is a Shaggy Pedigree Chum Chomper.
Last year I noticed some lovely person was picking up the poo parcels in the village area and each time she/he left behind a pink chalk drawing of a cupcake! How sweet! I suspect a damsel so lets call her the Cupcake Poo Patrol.
And so inspired by the Cupcake Poo Patrol I decided me and The Boy would take on the Morning Hillside Poo Patrol.
Armed with a goodly stash of poo bags we make our way up the hill, Buffa sniffing, momma spotting and scooping as we go. We don’t go overboard, if its too yucky or in the little bit of grass by a tree we might leave it and if there’s too many people around we get a bit self conscious. Wot if we get accused of leaving a poo and have to explain it’s not ours? Plus if we are too late and the goo has been stomped and spread then we can’t really scoop it so it must wait for the rains.
I secretly suspect that all this is feeding my OCD – a poop scooped and popped in the doggie bin is a job done and a tidier street hurrah! (What I really like is when Buffa poops in the garden and I can get the water hose on those smeary bits and REALLY obliterate it . . . . )
I have dreams of ambling around a corner with Buffa in tow and catching Small Round Blackie or Big Red Pooey in the act and “Hah!” I will say – “its you! I know you by your poo!”
Maybe I will ask their Mom or Pop if they have noticed that there is a Phantom Pooper Scooper in our area magically vanishing the poo parcels . . . I like to think maybe I will have the gumption to tell them to SCOOP THE FLAMIN’ POOP!
Hmm. . . . I will probably shuffle on embaressedly….. Buffa and Buffamom, unsung Heroes of the Hillside . . . . .