Summer is around the corner and the reason I know this is the Panther of News and I have already made the opening moves in the it’s-not-my-turn-to-mow-the-lawn game.
I wandered the estate this morning to survey the crops and weigh up the failed horticultural projects of 2010.
OK, I opened the French windows and looked out.
Past the climbing frame that really must be dismantled and removed (last year it saw most activity from the wasps that nested inside the tent bit) I spied something that made me gasp.
Three dog turds nestled on a mossy bit of grass.
We don’t have a dog or any other livestock apart from the spiders and woodlice who volunteer to live here. And one of the reasons is that I don’t want to pick up poo – I’ve got enough to deal with in the form of infant excrement and the inexplicable puddles of pee around our lavatories.
Over the last couple of years piles of dog muck would appear in the garden and the culprit was the big black labrador from next door. He belonged to a lovely family who were not the kind of people to let their pet defecate on private land. Oh no. They shared home baking with us, for heaven’s sake.
But the problem was that when the parents went to work, they left their beautiful twin daughters in the care of one of the grannies. And granny would just open the door and let the mutt out on his own.
When I raised it with the neighbours it was clear that granny didn’t let on. It was very awkward but I didn’t feel I could go as far as showing the photos that proved granny was an idle, fibbing perpetrator of domestic grass fouling. I couldn’t do that to such a nice household.
But eventually the family left for a new life in Australia taking their hound and my problem with them.
The new incumbent – another lovely family – have been there a while now and seem like the perfect neighbours. She works for an animal welfare organisation so obviously they wouldn’t let their collie go feral in our back yard. Would they?
Oh course not!
See, you've got to watch the grannies. They act all demure like in their woollie cardis, proffering fairy cakes and home-spun wisdom but underneath…they're deviants!!
Thing to do Auntie Ellen is get a cat for no feline shits in his own back yard. And neither does any other feline for that matter otherwise he'd have 'em!
Milt x
Milton is right about that cats, I know that much for certain. We have one who regularly deposits its waste in our back garden. It's not half as bad as your previous dog problem, but before I realised that cats do this I was out gardening and picked some mess up with my own bare hands. A memory never forgotten!
This is a job for Martha Stewart – not cleaning up the poo, I think you should tweet her and ask for advice!
Milton, I've got your number. It's another sneaky bid at world domination, isn't it?
Rosie, Euew poo-hand. Nasty.
TNMA, Excellent idea. Martha… yoohoo, Martha. Where is that woman?
Dog poo is my number one bugbear. I live in a nice street with my husband and 2 year old. Every day we step outside our house to find one, two or more piles of poop on the pavement right out side. What saddens me is that my 2 year old has to negotiate her way down the road past endless dog poo. “Mind the dog poo mummy' she says as she whizzes along on her scooter.