I Hate Dog Doo Doo

spincyclesmallThis week’s Spin Cycle topic is about hate.

Y’all go on over to Spriteskeeper and check out what kind of stuff (or people) everybody is professing to hate these days. It’s pretty interesting.

Me, I’m not real complicated. I just wish folks would have a little common courtesy. You know, like we were all taught back in Sunday School.


I don’t know when we all got so politically correct, but it seems everybody these days tries to steer clear of certain words. “Hate” is one of them. Nobody wants to admit to feelin’ hate anymore, and yet we all do. Even God hates stuff, y’all.

Proverbs 6:16 plainly tells us that God hates six things. A proud look, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that plots evil plans, feet hurrying to run to mischief, a flase witness who breathes lies, and he who causes strife among brothers.


I was gonna write about these two women that I work with, because they both fall into the running to mischief, breathing lies and plotting evil category, but then I remembered something I hate even more than them – DOG POOP!

What in the world is wrong with people who let their dogs out to poop and then never investigate to find out where said poop might have fallen? We have these neighbors, y’all. They have this black lab named Sam. Sam is a perfectly nice dog, I don’t harbor any evil feelings toward the poor fellow, but his owners make me want to rent a billboard and post their picture on it with the caption: “North Carolina’s Crappiest Neighbors!”

See, picking up dog poop out of my yard is not my favorite activity. It’s bad enough that we have to pick up Hannah’s poop. It’s kinda like changing a baby’s diaper. Somehow, changing your baby is bad enough, but doable. Changing someone else’s baby can be a gut heaving, nose holding, on the verge of vomit type of experience.

And, trust me, dog poop is worse than baby poop.

These neighbors obviously must think Sam is some sort of strange mutant dog that never poops. He has some sort of collar devise that allows them to “warn” him to come back if he strays out of their yard too far. So every day, instead of taking the time to walk this poor exercise deprived creature, they open their back door, and let him out to do his business. Staightaway he runs right over to our back yard (our houses are real close, y’all) and hunches over to take a power dookie and leave us one of his smelly presents.

I say “power dookie” because he has to be speedy. He knows exactly how much time he has before the collar starts to beep, and it ain’t much. Miraculously, it is just enough time for him to finish and scamper back into his own yard, before the warning beep escalates to the next level.  I really do wonder what these folks think he does out there in their back yard, since he never leaves any evidence for them to pick up.

Maybe they think his poop is invisible?

I don’t know, they seem like intelligent people. I mean, they drive a BMW, they put their darling, spoiled rotten, precocious daughter in only the best hoity toity private school and they are on the building committee for our neighborhood. That means that they get to help decide who is worthy to put up a privacy fence, or add on a room.

Have I mentioned our plans to add a sun room onto our house sometime this year?

No? Well, that might be a teensy bit of the reason why we just proceeded to quietly pick up Sam’s little presents every single freaking day for six months without saying a single word.

Then, one day, the mess (no pun intended) hit the fan.

I was standing at the kitchen sink, looking out the window that overlooks my back yard and I saw another dog taking liberties on our lawn. It was Crappy Neighbor’s father’s dog, of all things, a little sheltie. Standing nearby, on the sidewalk that borders our yard, was Crappy Neighbor’s father. He was actually standing there, watching his dog poop!

That’s when I snapped.

I opened the window and I screamed, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?”

I went into the garage and I grabbed the shovel. I was so mad I was shaking. Hannah came running into the kitchen, slipping around on the floor and falling down, to see what all the comotion was about. I stepped over her and threw open the back door, shovel in hand, determined to rid my lawn of the offending stinky piles once and for all!

I guess Crappy Neighbor’s father heard me, because he and his precious doggy had disappeared. As I was furiously shoveling the pile up, planning to walk over to the neighbors and have the Confrontation of the Century, Crappy Neighbor’s Father arrives with a shaken look on his face and a cute little red pooper scooper in hand.

A pooper scooper! Who knew? I was momentarily distracted from my furor as I considered this suprising new discovery. These people actually own a pooper scooper? It was brand new and shiny, too. I wondered when they ever planned on using it. Since, you know, Sam has invisible poops.

I held out the shovel full of sheltie’s present, turned to father in fury, and growled, “Where do you want it?”

He blinked. I could see the fear in his eyes. He held out the shiny red pooper scooper and said, timidly, “Right here?”

I slammed my shovel down into his fancy pooper scooper so hard I’m suprised it didn’t break something, y’all. Then I yelled, “You know, picking up after our OWN dog is bad enough, but picking up after your PRECIOUS DAUGHTER’S DOG for SIX MONTHS, EVERY SINGLE DAY, and now YOUR DOG on top of that…well…it gets REAL OLD!”

There! I guess I told him!

He just stood there and looked at me. He never said a word. Finally I turned in disgust and slammed back into the house.

It’s been a few months since that happened. We still get presents every now and then from Sam. Not every day, so I guess that’s an improvement. But, still.

We do try to document the doo doo, by taking pictures like the one you see above. Sam doesn’t seem to mind, and I figure if our sun room project gets denied because of the pooper scooper incident, then, well, we’ll have some sort of documented proof to use as our defense.

Ain’t it all just a big mess?


8 thoughts on “I Hate Dog Doo Doo

  1. Oh, that would piss me off but good! We have a problem with our neighbor’s cats. She adopts all the strays and leaves them outside to let them wander the neighborhood at will. Of course, they’re more interested in coming to our house, crapping all over my yard and driveway and lounging on my front porch, in sight of my dogs where the darn cats know my dogs can’t get to them. Grr. You’re linked! Sorry I’m late, holiday weekend didn’t wind down until an hour ago!

  2. Oh no. That would drive me nuts. But you definitely got your point across. lol. I have to say, the way your told your tale was entertainment enough. And the photo of Sam in his awkward stance, was icing on a really gross stinky cake. 😉

  3. I have a similar story. We just moved to our new
    home in May, we live in Texas. Our neighbors seemed nice enough people, but their black lab,
    also named Sam was just left to roam free, to
    do his stuff anywhere he wanted. He would doo-do
    on our 5 acers, and just so we wouldn’t step in it,
    i would cover it up with a shovel. But he would also urinate on our back porch. Everything was a target, the potted plants the rocking chair, our dog
    food dish, my husbans shoes. Well that was the
    last straw! My husband called over there to complain. It wap as good for about a week. When Sam started up again, my husband called again;
    but this time no answer, no returned call. What can we do now?

  4. I know I’m way late on this one but I just had to say “good for you!” It drives me nuts, too, when people let their dogs use other peoples’ yards and lawns as a toilet. Being a realtor I drive around lots of neighborhoods and see this all the time.

    The other day I was driving through a very nice neighborhood (not that it matters whether it’s VERY nice) and there was a woman with a dog on a leash having a poop on someone’s lawn. I watched in my mirror after to see whether she picked it up. She didn’t, just walked on. No excuse for that!

  5. My kids begged for a dog 7 years ago, promised to take care and clean after it. I have been cleaning, playing with and taking care of it for 7 years, my kids do not remember if they have a dog. Cleaning the poop is easier when it dried out, but when it’s still fresh from the “factory” it is sticky and stinky.
    When I walk the dog, I walk on the street and not on the sidewalk, the dog tend to have less urges when they do not walk on grass or gravel. I hate it when my yard became a public toilet too.Based on my experience, wise up parents! if kids begging for dog (puppies are cute and dogs do not talk back), remember it will be another daily chores and expenses (especially if you like to travel) for years to come, think before you act. Unless if you love dog yourself (some people have dogs to work as guards not as loved ones), give yourself a break.
    Save dogs from non-profit shelters (that do not cost more than $50) instead of pet stores.

  6. I despise irresponsible dog owners, and I’m surrounded by them. But the worst one of all is the one right next door with the barking dog. At this point I’d gladly let the dog crap in my yard if he’d just shut up. This barking has ruined my life, and it doesn’t help that we have weak laws and penalties for noise nuisances (and other animal related issues).

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