The other day, my daughter and I took our puppy, Clover for a quick walk outside a shopping mall. Figured it would do her some good to get out of the house and walk around and sniff some other dogs and people for a change.
About 20 steps from the mini-van, I realized I hadn't brought one of the plastic bags the newspaper comes in that we re-purpose for handy poop bags Surely we could make it a few hundred feet to the doggie area without needing one of those, right? Wrong.
It was very crowded at the mall, and as we passed in front of the one upscale store, I felt a familiar tug on the leash. Not the "hey, there's a dried worm I want to sniff" tug, but a full-brake stop-and-crouch "I'm going right here, right now" pull.
"Daddy, she's pooping!" my daughter yelled.
"Oh, jeez, not here! Not here, not here!" But it was too late.
Now we have a small dog, who normally has a couple dainty little puppy-poops per day. But not this time. This was like she'd been holding it in for a few days, a day-after-Thanksgiving 4-segment mother-lode, right there in front of the mall.
Did I mention I was wearing my radio station" hat? Yes, I was never more proud, as pedestrians quickly changed course to avoid the scene, folks inside the store looked out the window, and people sitting on benches settled in to watch the show. Fortunately a garbage can was nearby, and I had my daughter hold the leash, as I did a little trash-diving. Unfortunately, it had recently been emptied, and I had to reach way, way down to the bottom to grab all I could get, which was a napkin.
The napkin was a little too small for the job and, as dog owners know, the first couple segments are no problem, but by the time you get to the third or fourth, it becomes sort of a juggling challenge, and much of it ended up on my hand. Then I discovered the elusive 5th segment, which was firmly embedded in the bottom of my shoe, and making tracks all over the concrete. Still trying to use my trash-napkin, I bent over and wiped up what I could, as people continued to watch, then plopped the whole disgusting mess into an empty paper cup in the garbage.
My daughter, the dog and I made our getaway, and decided to leave the mall instead of sticking around. But I'm afraid we left a little reminder of our visit. I apologize to whomever had to come by and empty the trash can that day, because I can tell you it did not smell like a refreshing fall afternoon.