It's the little things, you know, that will drive you crazy. Big things, I can set my feet, and confront. But the little things can gnaw at you and before you know it, you are whipped. Take, for example, dog poop. Or, to be more precise, owners who do not clean up dog poop. I live in an apartment complex--not acres and acres of land where dogs are free to "go" where they will. Apartment complex grounds have limited green space--green space I would prefer not to see filled with "brown" matter. I am trying to be as delicate as I can here, and I do realize that one has to stoop pretty low to have a burning desire to discuss this subject. And yet here it is. I pick up after my dog Duncan. I walk him half a dozen times a day, ever grateful that as he gets older, he can go longer with out "going." So every day, six times a day, we make the huge block of our complex as he prepares to "do his job." Almost invariably, he is moved unto action on the fi
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Showing posts from June, 2012