The weather here has been crazy, warm spring days, then snowfall and chilling winds.  The chilling winds are a problem.  Seriously.  The other day I took the dog for a walk.  All was going well.  It was cooler than usual—not a problem.  So we are walking, and the dog takes care of her business…not strange.  So then I do the normal, socially responsible thing and I pick up her poo with a plastic shopping bag.

There was a hole in the bag.   A. Hole. In. The. Bag.  So then I have poo smeared all on my fingers.  Do I have a wipe? A napkin?  A used tissue?  No.  Nothing.  I even though about picking up tissues of the ground, but then I realized whatever was on them might be worse that poo.   Or it might  be poo.  As least I knew whose fecal matter was smeared on my fingers.   So I found a nice soft patch of grass and did the best I could.

I decided not to turn back and go home because the dog had only been outside for 5 minutes.  She needed a walk and besides that, if I had turned around I would have have to drag her back or carry her because she did NOT want to go home yet.  So with pooey fingers we proceed on our walk.  Then that “Winter Wind” became a problem.  There was a hole in the bag, this I knew.  And the poo was slowly falling out the bottom of the bag.  I started to hurry towards the trash—still wanting to be social responsible with my gooey, warm bag of poo.  But then the wind came and the poo started flying out of the bottom the bag.  This was when I decided to forget social responsibility.  By this time the poo was spraying with the wind and I decided, poo on my fingers—I can deal with. Poo all over my clothes.  Forget it.    That winter wind makes me nervous.