Wag The Man
I probably have the ability to do pretty much anything I want. But given the vast number of choices, besides spending time with my family, I have an activity that brings me lots of pure, simple joy. That activity is walking our dog, Buddy. He seems to think it’s the best thing in the world. In some ways, it is.
Besides the exercise and hanging out with man’s best friend, something about it just makes me happy. I think the Dalai Lama would agree with me 100 percent. There are no expectations of me other than to guide our pup around the great outdoors.
Wait minute, hold the phone. I forgot that I have to pick up his poop.
As a responsible dog owner and also good neighbor, like most people who walk their dogs, I am committed to making sure none of his “business” is left behind. Pet stores sell all kinds of gadgets and supplies for this. I carry a roll of biodegradable plastic bags that I can put on like a glove, scoop the poop and flip the bag inside out, containing the waste.
The other day I did just that. While walking Buddy, I cleaned up his mess with one of those bags and, when doing that, my cell phone rang. I hastily tied the bag to a belt loop on the back of my shorts. I continued walking Buddy while speaking on the phone. My conversation didn’t end until I reached the front door of my house.
Just as I opened the door, I saw that a favorite TV show of my 15-year-old daughter and mine was on. And my favorite recliner chair was open, whereas my daughter would normally claim it for her viewing pleasure. We often fight for that chair, and funny thing is, I seldom win. So, with my chance at the open chair, I ran toward it.
Just then my daughter entered the room and it was as though we were playing musical chairs trying to get the open seat. I launched myself toward it like a drone-fired missile with my okole being the warhead. I slammed my rear into the seat and heard a loud popping sound. I completely forgot about the poop bag.
For the next week the recliner was not my favorite chair. I also realized that we’re probably feeding Buddy too much fiber.