From A to Z

Whatever this animal is eating is also beyond fiber

The exterior of our apartment building is being terrorized.  We are under siege by a berry eating animal which has seriously upped its daily fiber intake.  If you have ever upped your fiber intake, then you are well aware of its consequences.  At first it was evident that the berries were a new addition to this animal's diet.  It was benign enough and appeared to only be a passing occurrence.  As of yesterday evening, it just got personal and this animal just got more regular.

Technically we aren't allowed to take Pedro and Dooley to the apartment grounds to do their bidness.  After a late night run-in at a nearby park with some teenager hopped up on something (maybe the same berries the poo bandit eats), our adherence to this rule abruptly changed. Last night as I opened the main door to our apartment building to let the Dudes out, I noticed Dooley slowed down and started sniffing.  I then caught a whiff of something unpleasant.  I looked down and noticed to the left of the door was a pile of poo.  On its own, seeing a pile of poo just outside your apartment's main entrance is shocking. There was something even more sinister about it though: what the neighbors must think.

Why do I care what the neighbors think about a random pile of poo?  Well, we are the ONLY people in the building with dogs.  They have probably all witnessed Dooley at some point smell his own pee after he peed and they have certainly witnessed Dooley dart over to Pedro to smell his pee after he peed.  He sort of reminds you of the kid that eats the Playdough after sculpting it into some sort of hot mess.  Wouldn't it be logical then for them to assume my Playdough eating child is capable of pooing by the door?

More unsettling than that thought is what they must think of us.  Are we the type of owners that allow our dogs to poo by doors?  Are we the type of owners who don't pick up the poo that is pooed by the door?  I had to take matters into my own hands...literally.  I don't particularly like picking up my own dog's poo, but they are my kids and I do it almost happily.  The thought of cleaning up a random animal's poo was horrifying but the consequence of not picking it up was even more horrifying.  I bet the animal responsible sat in some berry bush snickering as I did the deed and probably thinks it owns me.  If I ever catch this animal in the act, we will have words.

After the clean up, I returned to my apartment and slid down the living room wall ending in the fetal position.  I cried a little and second guessed my actions.  If a neighbor sees the poo was cleaned up, is that a greater admission of Dooley or Pedro's guilt?  How do I break free of these poo chains?  Then Dooley ambled over to me and planted a big wet one on my salty cheek.  It was then that I decided that I only knew one thing for certain - the Poo Bandit will most certainly strike again and I will continue to protect my, the Boy's and the Dude's good names.