Hag with a big bag of sh--I used a little positive thinking to apply to my conundrum of the other day, and it worked.
See, I lost track of Maggie’s “output” again. The brown leaves of late autumn make that one special chore of responsible dog ownership a little tough.
With this light dusting of snow we got today, scooping the poop will be so much easier. I sound like a total lame-ass. Why do I like winter? “Well, there’s skiing and it’s easier to find and bag the dog shit.”
So, I made a point of looking for other shit and disposing of it in order to balance things out in the universe—that little bit.
Boy, did I find it. The first pile I happened upon looked like it was left by a small pony. Definitely not Maggie’s. She would have needed stitches.
After I set my intention to pick up shit wherever I found it, I found it in spades:
- near the schoolyard
- on the sidewalk with shoe treads squashed into it
- bagged and hanging on a tree
- at work (just kidding!)
Posts
