Bob Wire Has a Point (It's Under His Cowboy Hat)
Spring Thaw: the Horror, the Horror
By Bob Wire, 3-02-09
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| "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." | |
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I was at the sink this morning, getting a drink of that fine tap water, when I saw our dog Houdini standing in the backyard. As I sipped, I noticed that he seemed to be smoking a cigar, making him look an awful lot like Triumph, the Comic Insult Dog. I looked closer and saw that the brown item protruding from his mouth was not a cheroot, but a frozen stick of dog crap.
The snow has almost completely melted away from the yard, and now the sun is shining on a bizarre tableau of decay, neglect and forgetfulness spread out among the dead grass. Two garden hoses lie pitifully bent and cracked, twisting through the yard like varicose veins on the legs of a cougar. Various garden tools and hand tools lay strewn about, as if that first snow last November had caught an entire native culture by surprise, freezing in time their apparent love for home grown vegetables, and their constant need to build things out of two-by-fours.
But even with all the hoses, tools, toys, ladders, gloves, and all the other detritus from last fall scattered about the yard, what still dominates the landscape is a massive distribution of frozen dog crap. And it’s not all Houdini’s. I mean, he’s not dumb. He wouldn’t eat his OWN crap. That would be gross.
During the most frigid weeks this winter, our side gate was uncloseable, as the fence had swelled enough so that the gate didn’t line up with the gate post. So I tried securing it with a bungee cord, which worked part of the time. The other part of the time, our back yard apparently served as kind of a rest area for dogs traveling through the neighborhood. There are dog turds of all sizes, shapes, color and texture out there. Who knew? The steamy deposits kept getting buried by successive snow storms, and it’s been cold enough most of the winter to keep that opaque layer of white stuff covering everything up.
But now it’s melted away, and the hideous truth is as plain as a fly in a glass of milk. One saving grace is that the freeze-dried feces is easy to pick up. I really should go fill up a garbage bag with those stinky Lincoln logs before it snows again. It hasn’t quite reached critical mass, but I’m not sure I’m ready to see it when it does. So I guess I’ll let Houdini enjoy the buffet for a while longer, then I’ll scoop the poop.
Maybe one day, after Houdini is gone, I’ll just bring home a bag of Canidae and pour it straight into the garbage can, cutting out all that middleman process a dog provides. He’s looking at me right now like he knows what I’m writing.
“Hey, buddy! Here comes Rusty. Go give Rusty a big kiss on the mouth! That’s it! Good dog. Go have another cigar.”
[Bookmark NewWest.net/BobWire and check back frequently. That is all.]
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Comments
Colin, I just have to say Graveyard of Shit is a good name for a death metal band. First album: "Fecal Factory."
The girlfriend, however, has to be informed that she is welcome only with her shovel or without her labrador retreiver.
Our dogs are inordinately fond of the almond roca variety found in the cat box - almost as much as each other's leavings outdoors. We plan on a new approach for the yard this spring after it thaws by teaching the cats to eat dog poo. It will be our attempt at the perfect closed ecology.
Wish us luck.
That may already be the case at our house: The dogs constantly try to get in and the cat constantly complains to get out.
We have to hid the cat box behind the couch and push the couch up against the two walls that form a corner or else Gus, the GLP, would always be in the cat cookie jar.
And, they wonder why we never kiss them anymore!
We used to call those "kitty rocas".
Three large dogs @ 80lbs of dry/month= (4mo x 80lbs) 1.5 for water weight. Should be around 480lbs of wet feces.
Good thing I have an unemployed son who eats all my food, plays video games all day and is still waiting to ship out for his 6 year Air Force adventure. Just the job to prepare him for overseas deployment. Hell I might even let him use the shovel this year.
Out here in Western Oregon, in the rainbelt (most years), rain melts the stuff. Better, though, is letting your pup out before bed time and have him run down and make a night deposit across the property line. Good fences make good neighbors. No fences makes your yard a poop place.
I do miss the guy who rescued greyhounds. He would race by the house with 4 of them, and plastic bags hanging from his pockets and a big one in his leash free hand. The dog track closed, and one day it was three greyhounds, then later on two, and then I never saw him again. I don't know who was the last one standing--him or a rescued greyhound.
The guy with three Samoyeds is down to one. He never carried a plastic bag. But down the street at the park, they have a garbage can for poop and a free plastic bag dispenser. Great idea. Now most of the dogs going by are pit bulls, pulling young men along like Clydesdales pulling gang plows. Man, the skinny kids and the fat ones are all equal today---guns and pit bulls make it so. The guy who has the pit bull that pulls him at warp speed on a skateboard is fun to watch. Going east there are railroad tracks that can precipitate a rodeo now and then. Especially when the skinny middle aged women running with their large rescued dogs meet up with the skate board pit bull. Did you ever notice the skinnier the woman, the more they jog and the bigger the dog they jog with? Makes you wonder why you don't see a plump gal with a little Parson Russell walking fast.
The the real question of the day is this: can I put dog crap in the big plastic composter I bought at Earthday last year? I cannot fill that thing. All the food waste, leaves raked, grass cut, and it still keeps on dwindling away, albeit with a lot of fruit flies and grey mold on top. I have this vision that at the bottom is one fat earthworm holding court with a bunch of scurrying critters of different makes and models, the earthworm being Jabba the Hut of the compost machine. Wouldn't want to reach too far into it.
According to the compost "people," you're not supposed to use fecal matter from anything that eats meat. However, chicken poop seems to be one of their favorites, and I've seen chickens eat mice and small snakes. I think it's your call.
If you really want to fill your compost bin, I'll make you a deal. Come build me one, and you can have all the horse manure you want . . . assuming you don't mind shoveling it yourself :)
I do know of an organic farmer who puts an inch of compost on his raised beds each year. And makes tea out of his compost to foliar spray with. His deal is to get nutrient rich food, and by actual testing, he claims his fruits and veggies are packing a lot more nutrients than regular bomb material fertilized plants. I am only doing it so I don't have to pay for the second garbage can pickup. Cheap. I am being cheap.
I am NOT an environmental zealot. I saw a Smart Car in the parking lot a day after seeing Steve Martin driving one in the latest Pink Panther flic (bad movie--save your coin--Martin is not Peter Sellers). For $16,500, you'd expect a little more. So the other day I saw one on the Freeway, doing almost 55 in the slow lane the 108,000 lbs loaded trucks use. The car might be smart, but the driver can't be. I liken a Smart Car owner to the city kid whose country cousin was selling him Smart Pills for 50 cents each. So a couple of kids bought them. And then again the next day. The country kid asked them if they were getting smarter. The city kids said they didn't think so, and the smart pills tasted like poop!! The country kid said they are special olives he finds in the mountains, and they do taste a little like poop, but you will be smarter sometime. You just need more time and more smart pills.
I do have to wonder if that is what we are getting from the new government----fed smart pills. But!!! and nothing counts before "but". I can recycle the smart pills in the composter and not hurt anything. The dog shit will have to go to the dump (a dump to the dump, dee dump dump) in a plastic bag. I learned something. Every day. Thank you.
Me thinks thou dost protest too much . . . maybe you're more of an environmentalist (or consevationist than you think).
Don't give those of us who drive 55 too hard of a time. In my Dodge Ram, it's the difference between 18 mpg and 13 mpg. I'd love to get the gas mileage of a Smart Car, but I haven't seen one that can pull horse trailer :)
Erin