Oh, the embarassment! X 2

Part I

I like to think I’m a very responsible dog owner. I walk my guy daily, teach him manners, and always, always, always scoop his poop. Since it doesn’t gross me out, really, in any way whatsoever, it’s not really difficult for me. In fact, as dogs so often want to poo where some other dog has pooed, and since I already have to bend over and have the bag in hand, I’ll often scoop up other poo if it’s lying right there. What the heck, I know what it’s like to find other dogs poo left on my lawn, seems a pretty small contribution to make, but I figure every little bit helps when it comes to poo in the neighbourhood.

A couple of days ago I took my dog out walking, our usual meandering route, to the park and around the neighbourhood. As we crossed one street, we came up along side some road workers, tearing a hole in the pavement and repairing I know not what. There were about 5 men standing around, while my dog had decided this was the spot and squatted to do his business. He is particular in his style, not really an ‘all in one’ fellow, he poos in a long line. Dropping a nugget, shuffling a foot or two, dropping another, and so on sometimes as many as 8 in a row. He has unique talents, to be sure. So, no worries, I stand indifferent while he does his business in plain view of these 5 men. Not until he finishes do I realize that in throwing off my hoodie just before leaving the house, I’d left all the poo bags in the pocket and now, when I need them the most, I have none. I am mortified, I always bring them, but here I am without. I have no choice but to turn and walk away, embarrassed and chagrin. All I can do is reassure myself that it’s not the end of the world, this never happens to me, and I can always come by and pick it up tomorrow. Knowing I am being righteously and harshly judged I try to hold my head up and walk off toward home, to the best of my ability.

Part II

As it turned out I did not walk my dog the next day, a friend came by and took him to the off leash park, so there was no need. I didn’t give it a second thought. On the following day we went off in our usual fashion basically retracing our route from two days before with little variation. As I come onto the street in question I remember the episode from before and, of course, the work crew has moved on and so will not be there to see me return to the scene of the crime and set things right. Alas, it’s enough, I assure myself that I do it, not that it be witnessed. The repair in the pavement being new it should be easy to locate the poo in question, I think to myself as we approach the spot. But it’s not quite as easy as I’d thought it would be. I have to spend some minutes pacing back and forth across two frontages, trying to locate it. The dog is totally uninterested in pooing here, having taken care of business earlier in the park. He is impatient to keep moving and trying to pull me away from the task at hand. With some focus I manage to find the line of poos and with, I’m sure, an ‘Aha’ sort of look on my face, I set about picking up the 6 parter he’d laid down 2 days earlier. I’m feeling somewhat proud of myself, I’m certain I’m smiling and a little self satisfied. The job complete I take a couple of steps down the side walk before something catches my eye to the left. I turn to see a couple sitting out on the porch of the house. I have not seen them earlier being so focused on the poo and all. I take a couple of more steps down the sidewalk before the quizzical looks on their faces register. Then it hits me that they think I’m a poo collector, and I look as happy as if I’ve found treasure on the beach, it clearly wasn’t my dogs poo, and I carried it away with me! Then, suddenly, I blushed to consider the story they’ll be sharing with friends, about my odd behaviour. Turned beet red, just like that. :smack:

Okay that’s pretty embarassing, we may have to take up a new route for our walk.

How about you? Got anything you’d like to share that turned your face red? Please? What could be worse that a reputation for poo collecting, after all?

Bwah! Bwah!

I laugh, I laugh. I laugh, because I can relate. One time, my dog had a poo I wasn’t expecting, and I ended up taking off the sweater I wore (over a tee), placing it on the grass beside the poo, to mark the spot, to make it obvious to anyone watching that I was going to come back and pick up, which I did. But I can SO see this happening to me. It was the second anecdote that really made me chortle, though.

My husband works third shift, so we sleep during the day. One of our neighbors is an old man who does odd jobs around the apartments, presumably for a break on the rent. He’s an obnoxious old lecher who staggers around drunkenly leering at women and talking your ear off if he can catch you. He also thinks he has some authority around the place, although he doesn’t. We try to avoid him at all costs.

So one late morning someone starts BANGING on our door. We generally ignore the door and phone when we’re asleep, but whoever it is KEEPS banging, for a solid five minutes. My husband finally jumps up and jerks the door open yelling “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!”
I hear mumbling, then my husband says “NO!” followed by the door slamming.

It was this old guy, wanting to know if we knew whose car it was parked in someone else’s space on the other side of the complex. We were both irritated by being woken up in such a manner, and to top it off, the dog also woke up and needed to go out.

SOOOO, to finally get to the embarrassing part, I took the dog outside to poop. She has a nervous stomach, so her poo at this time was very “loose.” I did the best I could to pick it up with the grocery bag over my hand, but it was oozing everywhere and of course the bag had a small hole in the bottom.

The landlady came out of her office, followed by the drunk lecher, to find out why my husband had yelled at him. So there I am, trying to appear calm and reasonable while I explained that my husband really isn’t a maniac, that we had been sound asleep, that it is just wrong to continue banging on someone’s door for five minutes when they haven’t answered, and that we had two cars which were both parked in our assigned spaces and would have no idea who was parked on the complete other side of the parking lot, ALL THE WHILE trying to contain a bag of poo goo which had oozed out all over my hand and was dripping on my shoes.

Thanks Chilean Bob, suddenly I am feeling a little better! Thanks for sharing!

That’s hilarious, and somewhat close to a scene I played out years ago. I had a roommate with a Hungarian Vizsla, and occasionally I’d take him for walks (the Vizsla, not the roommate). We got down to the corner one day and he dropped a good-sized load on my neighbor’s yard, and then I discovered I had no bags.

No one watching, so i just continued the walk, brought him back home, and then grabbed a bag on my way out the door for work. I pulled up in my car, hopped out, and scopped up the poop, sealing it hygenically in the bag and planning to throw it away when I got to work, or stopped at 7-11 for coffee, or something.

And it was only after I got back in the car that I realized my neighbor was in his carport, watching the whole thing with a look of utter disbelief.

So I quipped, “Scavenger hunt!” before explaining that my dog had left that present a moment before and, and, and… not sure if he ever believed me.