Throughout our first year at the apartment complex, Andrew and I were frequently grossed out by the doggy poop surprises left around the courtyard. Winter made it easy (at least we could see it and not step in it!), but it was still gross.
Andrew and I always clean up after Bailey. Always. Well, there was the one time she had diarrhea, and it couldn't be done. So I suppose I should say always minus one.
One day, about two months ago or so, I was out in the courtyard, and Bailey squatted to pee. She's old and a bit arthritic, so her back is a little hunched, and it takes her longer than all the younger dogs. As she got up, and we headed inside, I thought I heard a woman yell, "Clean up after it!" But I couldn't see anyone, and thought it might have been something else.
Well, yesterday, we were out in the courtyard again, and again, Bailey peed. We moved on to another grassy area, when a woman stepped out onto her balcony and yelled to me, "Aren't you going to clean it up?"
I looked up at her, perplexed, and said, "Uh, she peed."
"It looked like she pooped."
I held up the green poop bag I was carrying in my hand and said, "No, sorry, she's old and arthritic. That's how she pees. Don't worry, I have a poop bag."
The woman looked at me, said, "Well, I thought she'd pooped," and turned and went inside.
On the one hand, I admire her for having the courage to confront someone who doesn't clean up after a pet. On the other hand, I thought she could have been nicer to me after I cleared up the issue and maybe (perhaps) even apologized.
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