February 2012

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laugh Shi…Feces Happens By Laura J. Gallagher " " You, like I, might be asking yourself, 'Who would buy them?' And you might be answering yourself, 'A Kardashian?' Seriously, we were at a pet store the other day, picking up the aforementioned leash-container bags when we were confronted with a choice we never thought we'd have to make: What color did we want those leash-container bags? We saw yellow, blue, green…there might have been leopard print and hot pink for all I know, but by then there was this weird buzz- ing sound in my head and I was finding it difficult to form words. I'm hardly one to decry any little luxuries or comforts because I'm pretty sure this is it, then. Verily, there can be nothing left to surprise, shock, thunderstrike or befuddle me. I truly doubt that we, as a species, have anywhere left to go after this. So gather your loved ones, light some candles, lament the wailing of the children: They now make dog-poop bags in a variety of colors. As anyone who's ever had/seen/read about dogs knows, they, well, poop. Hopefully outside. And if you're a responsible dog owner, when they poop anywhere but your own yard, you pick it up. (If you're a really responsible dog owner, you pick it up in your backyard as well. And if you're an irrepressible dog owner, you leave it there and put a little flag with the date in each mound. Or was that just my mom?) Now, you could pick up their "little gifts" with your bare hands, but I don't think there's enough hands-free, anti-bacterial foam dispensers in the world to warrant that anything but the most des- perate of options, so most of us use plastic bags. Although once, on one of Nola's two bags/three poops excur- sions, I resorted to using a lot of leaves. A LOT. Oh, sooooo many, many leaves. Plus, a certain pair of gloves that never made it back into the house. If you were in Middleton a year or so ago, you might have seen a short, dark-haired woman with a greyhound whose expression could charitably be called "unhinged" walking quickly while muttering, "Icky, icky, icky, ick, icky, icky, ick, ick" for a block and a half while staying as far away from her own left hand as physically possible. That was me. Anyway, yeah, bags. Some people get plastic ones at the grocery store and reuse them. I would imagine others use paper bags or some other carrying device. Some, like us, buy special bags that go into containers that fit right on the offending poop-producers' leashes—very handy. And, apparently, some people insist on using bags that match their outfits. I do not want to know these people. "children are starving/unemployment/health care/OMG angst!" but what the heck? The three-pack of colored bags were $2 more than a regular three-pack. Bags. Bags that are either hidden in their container or, when in view of the public, obviously contain poop! You, like I, might be asking yourself, "Who would buy them?" And you might be answering yourself, "A Kardashian?" But then ask yourself this (and then maybe get a nice drink of juice and stop talking to yourself), "Would a Kardashian ever pick up their own dog's poop, matching bag or not?" Yes, I'm pretty sure this can all be blamed on that horrific trend of pets as accessories, started by that subset of humanity best de- scribed as "famous for being famous." Poor little Chihuahuas and pugs all over this great nation are being stuffed into knockoff Louis Vuitton bags, wearing clothing that says "Rock Star" in rhine- stones, and being named Tinker Bell and Sweetie by women who want to be rich heiresses but are neither rich nor heiresses. The closest they can come is to carry some defenseless dog around. But those dogs poop, just like the ones owned by us mere mortals. Hence, colored poop bags. Here's the thing, though. No matter how fancy, no matter how well it matches your dog's—or your—entire ensemble, no mat- ter how much more it costs than the plain ones, if you're walking down the street with a dog in one arm and a little pink plastic bag in the other, everyone knows that it's a bag. of. poop. Now, carry- ing those telltale bags doesn't faze me at all; it's part of being a dog owner and I loves me doggie. But then I'm not trying to impress anyone with money or breeding I don't have while carrying a bag. of. poop around, am I? We got the black ones. They go with everything. ••• Laura J. Gallagher is a long-time communications professional. When not teasing her husband, Triple M's Pat Gallagher, she is expanding the black items in her wardrobe to match her dog-poop bags. Find her on Facebook at the Laura J. Gallagher page! 80 BRAVA Magazine February 2012

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