It was nasty, and you did what you had to do.
Good. I am sure that feels tremendously satisfying.
It might, if only I were more confident that the responsible parties know how to read.
I thought there was supposed to be coyotes and bullocks and friends unseen for years. Not small dog poo. Nobody tells you about that.
Out in the back of beyond, we have coyotes and bullocks and friends unseen for years, but we don’t see much small dog poo.
The coyotes eat the small dogs. And their poo.
Maybe India needs a coyote.
View it in a room!
Wow, I send a tweet, it goes through India, and comes out in an apartment building in Carroll Gardens. Nice. I’ve just finished reading Motherless Brooklyn, so this means a lot.
Pneumatic tubes. That’s how it’s done.
Thank you for not smoking.
What a wonderful notice. Where have I been? I need some of those!!!
I had a plant under the crape myrtle tree. I call it “the pink grass.” It reminds me of a mimosa tree, which I don’t have. I was sitting one day looking out the window and I see a man with his dog and the dog climbs up from the street into my yard and under the tree. Then it turns around, scooches back with some difficulty and places his butt on my pink grasses and proceeds to, pardon my indelicacy, take a dump.
The owner was standing there holding the leash grinning. I was frozen, amazed, curious about what this man planned to do. Sure enough, he pulled bags from his pocket and meticulously picked the refuse from the plant and bagged it!!
Still, that was disgusting and after watering the plant for ages I moved it next to my house. Because of course every dog that walked by strained on the leash to try to come up into my yard and mark that spot. I mean, my yard is not level with the street, it is built on a rise. There is no sidewalk. The dog had to leave the street, climb up over the curb into my yard and do his business in my plant.
What I couldn’t get over was the man’s pleased grin. He thought his pet was being adorable.
You can get arrested in New York for that kind of thing. Try this, Carole.
And while you’re at it, have a look at India’s original posting of one of these. There’s a story behind it, of course, which would probably be better left at rest. Oh well.
Oh my! And I read all the way to the end, too.
Do you like sweet potato?
I planted the pink grasses in the flower bed on the other side of the yard. I have my camera ready at the window. I am ready.
We await. Eagerly.
Get nightvision goggles.
I hadn’t thought about skulking around in the night with goggles on, in my own yard. Great idea, Lucy, diabolical one. I’ll have to keep it a secret though. The Iowan would so NOT approve.
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