The Dog Park

Someone in my neighborhood is leaving their dog’s poop in the “dog park” (we’ll discuss this later) and when I find out who it is I’m going to sue their pants off. And then I’m going to smear their pants that I’ve just sued off in the dog poop so that they can’t put them back on. And they’re gonna be sorry, I tell you.

Poop Park Diagram Edited

I’ve tried enlisting help from my responsible neighbors, attempting to coax them into jumping the poop offenders. “Come on. If we all jump them at once and each get in one good jab, it ought to work. Now, who all owns a ski mask?”

So far, however, the only tactic we’ve actually implemented is gossiping about the poopers. We stand in the dog park and kind of toss our heads in the direction of the houses of the suspects and mumble, “You know who it is, right? It’s mmbdmmrr…”

Speaking of houses, I am working from home today and not in our generally poo-free office. Some of you have kindly asked me, “How’s the new house?” The house is great. Part of it (my bedroom) is being painted today (hence working from home) by two nice men named Hector and Francisco…and me!

Painter

Just kidding. I made Hector take my picture.

Back to that “dog park”. One reason we chose the particular house we bought was because of the promised “dog park” that would reside “right outside your door!” (Handy when you don’t have a yard but do have a large dog that tends to enjoy a good poo three times a day.)

We laughed as we signed the contract (financing by James Beaver, by the way!), daydreaming of our new house and of the dog park. We saw ourselves tossing the tennis ball to our frolicking labradoodle while chatting with future neighbors.

But as our house was being built, we noticed more and more contraptions being added to the promised dog park area. Large, gray boxes and pipes and wires and latches. “Are those going to stay there?” I asked my husband as we took pictures of the continuing construction. “Maybe they’ll move some of them before we close,” he offered.

But instead of moving them, they added more, and even threw in a few pieces catawampus just for fun. Today, I’d call the area more of a “gray box park”. Dogs still poop in it and sometimes pee on the contraptions, but that’s about it, besides the ambush talks.

Before I go, a heads up to those of you who actually read my silly posts all the way down to the bottom (bless your hearts). I have a meeting with my Boss James tomorrow to discuss this blog, and me, and world problems, and maybe what James had for lunch (I always hound him if he eats a lot of cheese at meals). So if you are so inclined, please come back later this week to find out what we unearth…

Okay folks, you all have a happy Wednesday and go buy some houses, and I’m off to purchase a ski mask.