The only problem I seem to have is constantly timing my walks with Georgia to happen the same time the landscapers and lawn mowers are out. And the reason this is a problem is two-fold; Georgia hates any loud mower sounds and clanking trailers, and I feel totally in the way. These guys are just doing their job, yet I can't help that they're thinking, Here comes the disheveled red head in those same Victoria's Secret Pink yoga pants and that ratty stretched out tank top. And her little dog, too.
Usually I can hear what area of the neighborhood they are working on and I can simply go the opposite way, giving them plenty of space and not bothering them. That was the plan yesterday, but it didn't work out exactly.
Georgia began whining at my feet. "Yeah, ok, it's time," I told her. I got her leash on and my pooper scooper set with a fresh bag and walked out.
Bzzzzz.
Lawn mower day.
I walked out of the house and towards the main road that met with our side street. I could see them in the distance working in the park. Ok, so we won't go that way today, I thought, and led Georgia to the right, towards the small park on the other side of the neighborhood.
I should probably also mention that I am terribly paranoid about getting yelled out for my dog doing her business. I don't really know why. I keep expecting one day for a woman in a blue bathrobe with pink curlers in her hair, running out of her house and shaming me for not getting every bit of her poop. She would then order me to pick it up with my bare hands. And I would. Because I'm weak and obedient.
Still, dogs do dog doo, and really if she doesn't relieve herself, I'd be worried something was wrong with her. So the compromise is, I make sure she pees and poops, but only in the park areas. Never on the lawns. And I always bring my pooper scooper and bag to pick up after her, but if I can't get it all, well, at least I tried.
Anyway, I was nearing the park area and we were doing the same ol' dance; Georgia sniffing everything, marking, or looking around, while I waited, looking for woodpeckers and willing her bowels to move.
At last, she finally went and just as I picked it up with the scooper, I heard it. Bzzzzz. And it was suddenly getting louder. I saw one of the lawn mower guys driving towards us. I didn't have a chance to deposit her bag in the garbage. I just yanked Georgia away from her fascinating blade of grass and hurried her to the cul-de-sac. The other problem of trying to discreetly walk your dog in the morning is that you almost always have an audience. People are leaving for school or work, bringing their garbage to the curb, or bike riding. I really don't know why I have this absurd modesty...on behalf of my DOG...but I just fear judgement, what can I say?
As I watched and waited for the lawn guy to finish mowing the park, I heard something else. Aaaack.
Georgia puked on the neighbor's yard. Wonderful. I stood there for a few minutes, holding a loaded pooper scooper, unsure what to do. I considered trying to pretend to clean it up, but what good would it really do? Instead, I kicked a little grass on top of it and hoped no one saw.
After purposely "pretending" to fumble with the very complicated pooper scooper, the lawn guy finally drove off and I was able to throw away the bag. We were just getting home when I heard the sound of another law mower coming towards us. Maybe they are just messing with me...
You forgot to mention what a racist dog Georgia is...haha
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