Monday, February 9, 2009

Things I See On The Ground

I have a dog named Sophie, and that dog needs a walk multiple times every day. She likes going to the same places over and over so she can smell where she peed yesterday and where the boxer down the street pooped today. So we tend to go to up and down the same blocks over and over again. Occasionally I will go on other blocks because I really don’t care where she peed or some other dog crapped. Plus I am on the control end of the leash, so we get to do what I want to do. Most of the time, anyway.

However, one thing I have noticed, whether I am on on the usual blocks or different blocks, is that people toss the most random things on the ground. Today alone we found two whole carrots and a whole red onion (whose papery outer skin had been peeled or otherwise removed), two small and empty bottles of vodka, 4 AAA batteries, one Nike sneaker, looked to be about a size 7 men’s, Taco Bell wrappers, and a soccer ball that is inside the fence of church-owned property which is the size of a baseball field yet is only open for parking during Christmas and Easter and for the big carnival they have once a year where they bilk the neighborhood out of it’s hard earned cash via rides and greasy food (God forbid they let area children actually play in the field…). And that was on one block of the walk.

We usually come upon an assortment of discarded bones, and I have to yank poor Sophie away from them because she thinks bones are a fine snack, while her intestines think they are a deadly snack. I sort of understand chicken bones, since there is fried chicken available every 7/10ths of a mile here on the Island of Long, but what I don’t get are the pork chop bones. Unless there are drive-thru pork chop windows that I am unaware of, that means that people are packing themselves a pork chop lunch and then when done gnawing the meat from the bone they simply and thoughtlessly toss it out the window where it sits in varying states of decay, waiting to become my dog’s next conquest. I have been known to pry her mouth open and reach down her throat to dislodge the partially swallowed (whole, mind you) bone. That is fun. But she lets me do it, so what the hell.

I see lots of things on the ground. It’s sad and weird. Look down next time you are out for a walk. You will be surprised, disgusted, dismayed and humored. Oh, but you better bring a bag to pick up your own dog’s poop, because I do not want to step in it when I walk my dog!

Copyright (c) 2009 Leslie R Becker

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