Oh, the indignities we dog owners suffer
I have this little plastic bag dispenser so I can pick up Misha’s dog poop on our walk. I rarely have to use it and mostly carry it in case someone confronts me about stray dog poop that they find on their lawn (yes, it has happened). I can whip out my dispenser and show them I am plenty ready for action.
Yesterday, on our walk, came the moment of truth. First, Misha couldn’t decide where to go. Then, it appears she ate a piece of thread, and…I won’t go into details…but she was having a bit of trouble.
So, there I am with my bag dispenser and I can’t tear the darn bag off! I finally get one, but I ripped it in half.
I attempted to get a second bag and am thrilled when I succeed, only to notice I’ve put a hole in the bottom. So, there’s Misha trying to do her business and I’m crouched down on the sidewalk trying to tie a knot in the bottom of the bag so I can take care of my end of the business.
Eventually, we got it together and I cleaned up the pile. I couldn’t help but wonder if the homeowner was sitting at their front window wondering what the heck was going on in front of their house. Laughing, I am sure.