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There's a Novel in There Somewhere

This morning I took Emily to the dog park; to get there we go over a footbridge across the Muni and some roads. As we were walking down the ramp on the other side about 40 feet up, E caught wind or sight of something at ground level and paused to look down. So I looked down to see what had attracted her attention. What I saw was a motherly or grandmotherly woman in a blue sweatshirt and jeans, walking two dogs (off leash). The woman was carefully collecting the feces in a plastic bag and giving the dogs treats when they'd done their job. But then she carefully tied off the bag, bundled it into a roughly spherical shape, and then, just as carefully, placed the bag under the windshield wiper of a big tan SUV. Then, with the pleasant affect of someone who has taken care of business, she whistled for the dogs and went off down the street.

I wonder what's up with that?


Oh...my. Vengeful ex-wife? Fired employee? Feuding neighbour? Or maybe just a hates-SUVs-with-a-passion person? If that last is the case, perhaps she figures "You're polluting my air, I'll pollute your behemoth." Hm. Wow.
I think we know exactly what's up with that. It's the same instinct that drives me to want to write ENVIRONMENTAL RAPIST in lipstick on the back of SUVs.
Part of what was so fascinating was the deliberate, pleasant, methodical way in which she did it. As to her motivation: maybe it was an environmental thing. Maybe someone had just really pissed her off. If the latter, I hope I never irritate anyone that much.

Environmental comment most certainly.

Love, C.
O my.
maybe the owner of the car never picks up after their dog.
good on her.