On the sidewalk, I encountered a young woman with a large, squatting dog on leash. The dog was producing the biggest turds I have ever seen, and I have had many very large dogs - and a wolf. I've had ponies. This dog was a freak of nature. After he had filled most of the concrete squares within a two-block radius, she yanked his leash and began to sashay away, flipping her voluntary-blond hair.
"You're not going to clean that up?" I asked.
In a voice so impossibly high that only dogs could hear it, she wailed, "I don't have anything with me."
"Use your hands, bitch" was the appropriate answer, but I was holding my breath against the odor - not the best way to have a conversation. She pranced on her way, dragging poor Fido, who must have weighed at least 20 pounds less than he had a few minutes before.
So here's the thing: If you're walking a dog in the city, you should be carrying plastic bags for poop scooping. It's the law. Unless you have no intention of abiding by it, which clearly she didn't. Nobody loves dogs more than I, but many dog owners seem to think they're exempt from the responsibility that goes with it. I'm not feeling the love right now.
