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Dog CrapDec 18, 2006
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Rocky examining a virgin field of iceplant
| Back when dinosaurs were small, people wrote on rocks and I was a college freshman, I had my first teacher conference with my English prof., who coincentally was a published author. Not having yet discovered anything I could do that paid well, I told her I, too, intended to be a writer. She asked what I was going to write about. I said "Life!". She said, not unkindly, "Then you're going to have to wait until you've lived it awhile. In the meantime, why don't you write about something you know?" In the RV world, I have already come to know dog crap and crapping at a heightened level of intimacy. Only part of it involves the gifts from our own three dogs, but they themselves are interesting. Jake the Cairn, for instance, will only poop if he is backed up against something...a tree, a fence post, a wall...and prefers it if the object is above him, thereby insuring he's crapping uphill. He's quite regular about his pooping; twice a day, first thing and last thing, and you do NOT want to miss his last trip out, if you get my drift. Spyro, our Cocker, will only go after breakfast. You could walk him until his shaggy ears fell off before breakfast and you might as well have a rock on his lead for all the action you're gonna get. He's also an amazing creature of habit considering we are in someplace different every week. First time through he will pick a spot and that's it...that spot will be devoid of any plant growth, guaranteed, by the end of the week. Rocky, our biggest dog, is pretty catholic about things; she'll crap on any surface, but much prefers iceplant if she can get it. I think that has to do with her wanting to be remembered; Houdini couldn't get fresh dog crap neatly out of iceplant. The most memorable experience I had in watching Rocky in iceplant involved the eroded cliffs at Pacifica . Rock slithered under the fence barrier like a snake on a mission and had her back end hung off the cliff before I could do anything about it. I still wonder what the beach walkers below thought about the likely quality of their day when they saw that particular gift of the gods raining down.Dog clean-up among RVers is remarkably similar as near as I've been able to determine. Forget fancy aluminum rakes and hand-held scoopers; we all use a plastic bag fitted over our hand, pick up the crap (techniques here do vary), reverse the bag neatly to avoid any spillover, tie the top and deposit it as quickly as possible in the nearest trash can. No interesting differences there; what interests me is how many people make it as far as a trash can and then miss. I've seen as many as three or four gifts leaned up against a trash can. I can only think that they somehow think it's better for the trash collector to have the trash presorted, the McDonald's cups in one pile and the crap in another, sorta like laundry lights and darks. Plastic bags themselves quickly become in short supply among RVers who have multiple dogs and we're no exception. I've come to appreciate the variety of dog-specific biodegradable plastic bags provided by RV parks, beaches, public parks, and dog-friendly towns like Carmel that have many more bag dispensers than young people of color. The bags themselves range from the simplest, flimsiest and probably cheapest little things that could possibly corral a healthy poop to the honestly elaborate bags at Grover Beach in Pismo, which are, on top, a heavy white plastic tapering to an equally heavy but brown inverted plastic at the bottom. Once you get the hang of the Grover Beach bags you can scoop a Rocky poop and two other previously untouched dogs' offerings and still have room to tie the requisite overhand knot at the top. Needless to say that full bag entitles you to stand back about 15 feet and try for two trashcan points without worry that the bag will explode like overripe fruit. My buddy Max Frawly recently observed that I have too much time for writing on my hands these days (see "guestbook") and I suppose, given I've now reduced myself to writing about dog crap, that he's proven right. Nonetheless I do have to ask mself why nobody has written about this whole subject earlier? Or perhaps there is a body of work out there I haven't yet discovered, explaining revolutionary scooping techniques and detailing even more elaborate bags? I can only hope. |
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