When Did I Become The Mayor of Pooptown?


Almost every day I step in it–I don’t always realize it at first, but as soon as I step off the grass and onto the sidewalk, I feel that mushy lump under my foot.


I know it’s not from my dogs–I bring a bag with me when we go out in the morning, and I always pick up after them.

Usually, I’ll pick up the OTHER poop I see too. I know if I don’t do it, then it’s just gonna build up into a giant poop minefield.

I promise I’m not exaggerating here. A couple weeks ago, I just finished walking the dogs and went straight to the car. As soon I as started driving, I smelled dog poop.

I think somewhere in the middle of cleaning poop off the gas pedal and my shoe is the point where I snapped.

Most people can barely deal with cleaning up after their own dogs. I’m over here picking up droppings from dogs I’ve never even seen. I just really wish people would realize the little poopy woopy their doggy made yesterday isn’t there anymore because some nice stranger scooped it up for them and threw it away.

“I should really bring a bag from now on and pick up after my dog.”

That would be a great little “note to self”moment.

Since I’m now convinced Universal Studios will be offering real tours of Mars before this little realization happens, I’m just gonna post a note on the bulletin board by the mailboxes: “Please pick up your dog’s poop!”

Simple, straight to the point, and I even said “please.”

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