The old lady and the pee

I think she waits for me every day. I only come every third day past her home, walking Raven by her yard. Sometimes I'm not even there that often, because her house is on the extension of my third route--when I'm in a hurry, I don't take the extra loop that would lead me across her path.

And still she waits. Our first meeting about a year and a half ago started out rather well, I thought. Raven was inspecting something in her bushes, as dogs do. Then he raised his leg and did his thing.

Well, she marched down her driveway. "What is your dog doing?" she asked, in what seemed to me to be a non-accusing manner. "I don't know--he seems to smell something in the bushes," I responded. I thought she was trying to start a friendly conversation and then remark on what a beautiful dog I have and wish me a pleasant day.

Wrong. She proceeded to lecture me on allowing my dog to do his business in her yard. Her yard is not for this. Where do I live, she wanted to know. Well, then keep your dog over there to do this. After a 5-minute lectures and my muttered apologies ("I don't want to hear I'm sorry" was her response) I finally left, reduced to hurt and even angry tears.

I decided that I would not avoid this route, it was still a free country and I could walk Raven where I wanted to. I needed to walk every day. I'm diabetic and if I wanted to live as long as this old lady, I need exercise, and so does my dog.

Well, yesterday was the day of the old lady route. Raven did his number two business fairly close to home--several times within a close proximity. So, I thought, maybe he's done with this for the rest of the walk. As we passed by the old lady's house, I was thinking of anything but Raven pooping on her yard. Usually I try to steer him away. In fact, one time a few weeks ago, I saw the lady in her window, and I waved at her. She actually waved back.

But this time I was preoccupied. Raven veered toward the edge of the yard. Maybe close enough to be considered the neighbor's yard. It was near a tree, so I thought maybe it would obscure the lady's vision from what Raven was doing.

But, as I bent down to clean up the small pile, she rushed outside. "I'd like to talk with you," she said. Oh no, I thought. "I'm cleaning it up, ma'am," I replied. There wasn't a trace of poop left behind as I stood up from my chore and tied up my bag. "I don't care," she replied. "My yard is not for this purpose. Use your own yard."

"I've gotta get going," was my answer as Raven and I trotted off, hearing her continue her lecture to our backs.

This time I didn't cry. I didn't yell back that this is a free country and as long as I clean up after my dog, he can poop any old place he wants, that I have a disease and could be near death's door if I didn't take my dog for his morning walk every day. I didn't say a lot of things that came to mind.

Soooooooo I wonder what our next encounter will be like. In two days I'll be back by her house, barring a rainstorm. Which, by the way, we had yesterday--with lots of wind. I'm sure her yard is littered today, not with dog poop, but with lots of leaves and small branches.

Till next time,


Suzi