John Cafarella
Walkin' the dog
Just a-walkin' the dog
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon now, c'mon, c'mon…..Rufus Thomas
A few years ago, Margaret’s sister, Barbara and her husband Richie took a cruise around the southern tip of South America. It was a 3-week voyage during February. Ostensibly, that made it summer down there but it is close to Antarctica, which is as we know, cold. They live in North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. We gladly offered to watch their golden retriever, Lexi, while they were gone as February weather in the Poconos is less than scintillating…..probably more like Antarctica. February weather in North Myrtle Beach is - big surprise - considerably more appealing to us.
We don’t have a dog. Many of our friends and relatives have dogs. We like their dogs. We get along with them. We give them treats. We pet them, scratch their backs and bellies, if offered, and then leave them to their owners. The dogs like us, especially the treats. We do not take care of them and all that goes with dog care and maintenance. Now we would be taking care of Lexi for three weeks. My fervent hope was that she would not die while in our care. Of course I didn’t share this secret hope with anyone. Feeding her would be fine as we got there a few days before Barbara and Richie left and observed the feeding procedures and daily routines. Petting and giving her attention would be fine. Lexi loved both. We liked Lexi. Lexi like everybody. The principal concern was walking her. Walking her would involve picking up her poop. Golden retrievers are not small dogs. I absolutely refused to do the doggie bag pick up method which involves inverting the bag over your hand, grabbing the poop, note -it’s warm, and pull the bag down over your hand. Tie the bag securely while holding the leash in your other hand. If the dog poops early in the walk you have to carry the bag around with you, usually with fingers on or near the knot. When you complete the walk your mission is only partially accomplished. You must then dispose of the bag in a designated trash can or pet waste disposal container. One does not flush pet waste down the toilet; it can overwhelm wastewater treatment systems. Forgetting to bring poop bags can be an issue for us non-dog owners. I would come to learn in the future that the pros attach a dispenser to the leash for convenience.
I opted for the pooper scooper as it would provide a comfortable distance between me and the canine deposit. I wondered who was responsible for this wonderful technological advance with clamps and a long handle that keeps you mercifully separated from the dog product? There is a bit of a dispute as to who invented the pooper scooper. Brooke Miller, a Californian, receives most of the credit for the revolutionary invention. However, Sam Gorwitz invented the first pooper scooper, called the "Scoo-Pup," in 1957. Gorwitz did not patent his creation. Miller patented the first long-handled pooper scooper, named the “Pet Butler” in1972. U.S. Pat. No. 6,196,600 B1. This device was designed to make dog poop pick up more efficient and sanitary, eliminating the need for the user to bend over or physically touch the waste. The design featured a rake-like edge on a stick and a hatch for attaching a bag. The term "pooper-scooper" became a common term in dictionaries in the early 1970s.
We are an innovative society so naturally, over the years, the pooper scooper has seen numerous upgrades and modifications, each aimed at making dog poop pick up easier, more hygienic, and more eco-friendly although it will never be pleasant. Scoopers now come in different sizes to accommodate various breeds so therefore a wide variety of pooper scoopers available in the market. These range from the classic rake and pan sets to high-tech gadgets that make dog poop pick up a breeze. Pun intended. Some modern scoopers even come equipped with features like antimicrobial coatings, LED lights for nighttime use, and collapsible designs for easy transport. I went on Amazon, where else, and picked out a fairly basic pooper scooper for Lexi’s walks. I would learn, the hard way that the inside crook of the elbow, the cubital fossais is also vital to the art of successful pooper scooping
Armed with a leash, my pooper scooper and a plastic shopping bag from the local supermarket for the post poop transfer from the scooper to a safer, less aromatic container, I was prepared to take my place among the legions of dog walkers of the world, or in this case, North Myrtle Beach. I quickly discovered a problem. I had one hand and arm for Lexi on the leash and another hand and arm for the scooper. I could hold the leash on my forearm and use the two hands to extract the fecal stuff from the grass. However, I would then have to deposit the poop in the plastic bag. You may recall that I mentioned Lexi liked everyone she met. She was a gentle, friendly dog. There were two exceptions, trucks and golf carts. I have no idea why, but she immediately switched from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde, lunging and barking madly like the Hound of the Baskervilles when either passed us as we were walking and sniffing (Lexi, not me), in the grass at the side of the road. When this occurred, usually as I was in mid-poop extraction or poop depositing in the bag, things turned slapstick. Dog lunging, trying to attack and snapping at the offending vehicle - recall she was large, and me trying to control the poop, the scooper and the bag and……I’m glad no one was filming this. I quickly learned to prepare when a I saw or heard a truck approaching and had Lexi firmly leashed. Golf carts were another matter. They are quiet and I didn’t hear them. They are also slow moving so it would be a while until they passed to enough distance that Lexi decided we were safe and the wrestling match would come to an end. Lexi and I survived the three weeks as did the pooper scooper although I came to hate trucks and especially, golf carts as much as Lexi.
A few years later, there would be another adventure with canine care, and this would involve the dreaded doggie bag. The modern dog poo bag emerged in the 1970s, not in a design studio, but as a public health intervention. First in the UK, then in parts of the US and Germany, municipalities began issuing free bags to encourage dog owners to pick up after their pets, a radical shift from the previous norm of simply… looking away, watching the sky, checking one’s watch, or pretending nothing occurred. I still witness this kind of behavior occasionally when the dog walker thinks no one is looking. Here in the Pocono Mountains, it is not much of a problem. We are rural. We are surrounded by woods. The dog, like every animal that lives in the woods, can be allowed to poop in the woods………Although there is the occasional exception to the animal fecal disposal “woods rule”. One day, a bear made a very large deposit on the welcome mat at our front door. This took the concept of welcome too far. We’re pretty sure it was a bear. Raccoons have pooped on our deck in the past. This was bigger than raccoon poop. It was a veritable poonami! Margaret discovered it when she walked out of the door and stepped in it. Her exclamation of surprise and dismay immediately morphed into an exclamation of disgust. She hopped around on one leg until she could remove the contaminated shoe. The mat, no longer welcome, would be thrown away. The area was washed down with disinfectant. The afflicted shoe would be hosed down…..several times…..and left outside to dry. We related the story to our neighbors, Jan and Kelley, both dog owners. It turned out that Jan has a book for animal poop identification. Recall, these are the Poconos. Kelley is afraid of bears and so is on the lookout for bear poop when she walks her dog. We consulted Jan’s book but It was difficult to identify the attacking scat as, alas, Jan had no pictures of foot mashed poop. Kelley accused Margaret of “destroying the evidence”. We’re fairly certain that the culprit was a bear as the deposit was very large, even in a semi-squashed state with a shoe print in the middle.
We leave turd laden welcome mats and return to poop bags. At first, the bags were nothing more than flimsy grocery bags with a new purpose. But over time, they evolved. Dispensers appeared in parks. Rolls were designed to fit in branded canisters. And the bags themselves would even come in an assortment of designer colors. Black is for discretion and green works for eco-guilt relief. I’ve read that there is pink, haven’t seen it, that would be for the anarchists or Barbie fans. In 1907, after Teddy Roosevelt got tired of cleaning up his dog’s loose droppings from their walks, he’d carry a pocket-sized bag for that purpose and others followed suit. After WWII, dog poop bags became more and more popular, especially with women. They’re always ahead of the curve. Soon many pet owners, but not enough if you’ve noticed sidewalks, particularly urban sidewalks, keeping a stash for quick clean-ups on walks.
Recently, Margaret’s sister, Ann, had knee replacement surgery. We went down to Pleasantville, New York to stay with her for a week or so as she went through those initial very difficult and very painful days. Ann has a dog. Her name is Sophie and she is an affectionate, friendly black, “Heinz 57 varieties”, 40-pound rescue pooch. Ann would not be able to walk Sophie for a while following the surgery. I would. Sophie was returning from a couple of days at “doggie day care” pre-Ann’s surgery and we were all home waiting for her. Everyone was happy. Sophie is well trained and alerts Ann when it is time to go out for a walk and do her business. At 1:00 a.m. that first night Sophie needed to go out. Margaret and I heard the sounds of Ann and Sophie moving around. Ann, who could barely walk was standing in her kitchen, leash in hand. She didn’t wish to disturb us. How she would get down and up the 14 stairs would be impossible. I walked Sophie. We was agreed that whenever Sophie needed to go out, whatever time, Ann would knock on our bedroom door and I’d take her out. Ann does not have a pooper scooper. She has lots of doggie bags. Out went Sophie and I. Me, barely awake and Sophie with what turned out to be diarrhea. There we were in the dark of night with me trying to find her liquidy deposit in the grass and pick it up with what was my first attempt at doggie bagging. I wished that doggie bags had the LED lights that some pooper scoopers have. This was my first experience with the inside out, pick up, and inside out and knot method of poop removal. Even with my cubital fossais coming into play for holding the leash while I did the knotting gymnastics, things did not go well. It was dark couldn’t find the stuff. I estimated where it must be. I think I got some, but I came up empty with a few grabs also. I did the best I could but I’m sure I didn’t get all of it. The ratio of liquid poop in the bag to the time it took Sophie to poop did not match. Ann lives in a condo development, i.e, civilization. One does not leave poop lying around. The trash and recycling containers are in a garage-like building with a garage-like door. Think 2-car garage. The automatic door makes a loud unearthly noise that sounds like an extended “skeeeraucnch” as it opens and closes. This is where one deposits dog deposits. Biodegradable bags are now commonplace. I was not going to subject the neighborhood to that skeeruanching at what was now 1:30 a.m. so there I stood. Dog on leash and diarrhea, filled poop bag in hand. What to do? Sophie and I and poop bag returned to Ann’s and I put the bag outside on her deck for later retrieval.
At 4 a.m., Sophie had to go again. Out we went. This time I cleverly maneuvered her to grass under a streetlight so I could see the mess. Unfortunately, Sophie must not have liked the product of her efforts, and she immediately began kicking the grass with her hind legs thus scattering the ordure before I could perform the inside out poop bag trick. Fortunately, I wasn’t directly behind her. Again, I gave it my best but hey, it was still very dark and I couldn’t find it all since it was all over the place. I estimated distance and calculated direction and picked up enough, I think, to ease my conscience. We returned to the house, and this poop bag joined the previous one on the deck. I was sure no one would be sitting out on the deck at 4:15ish. At 6 a.m. we were back at it. There sure was a lot of stuff in that dog! By now I was becoming proficient at doggie bag inside outing and apparently Sophie was running out of poop. It was still too early for the screeching garage door so out onto the deck it went. Later that morning the landscapers appeared riding their lawn mowers. That would take care of the items I missed in the middle of the night. I wondered if I should alert them to the presence of some dog excreta in the grass. My conscience bothered me but not too much so I kept quiet. Of course, I wouldn’t want to be behind them as they rode around,
The next time you find yourself struggling for another word for poop and turd won’t cut it, use excrement. You’re probably already familiar with the word excrement, which means “waste matter discharged from the body, especially feces.” The word comes from a Latin word, excramentum, literally “something excreted”?. Excrement is first recorded in English around 1525–35 and is a good way to describe what goes on when you visit the toilet. Other synonyms come to mind. Take ordure for example. The word, which means “dung, manure, or excrement”, or fertilizer is found as early as 1300–50, and comes from Old French word for “filthy,” in turn from Latin word horridus (“horrid”). If you’re out and about or in a dog park, you can say “that odor is ordure”. Just never say you wish to ordure from a menu in a restaurant. Then there is scat, the excrement of an animal. Many of us, most recently, Margaret have stepped in scat by accident. The word scat first became used by those who had stepped in it around 1925–30, but its origins are obscure. It could be connected to the Greek word skar (“dung”) because I’m sure that the Greeks stepped in the stuff too. As for the word feculence, if you’ve been or near a Porta Potty that is overdue for a cleaning you’ve smelled feculence. Derived from the Latin word faeculentus, meaning “full of dregs,” the word feculence dates back to 1425–75. If you come across ancient or aged poop, you can add the word coprolite to your vocabulary. This works for weeks old poop as well as dinosaur poop. Coprolite is poop that is so old it has completely hardened and lost any trace of smell. Coprolite is probably the best kind of poop there is. And also, as a public service, the Poop Deck on a ship is a term used in nautical terms for a raised platform on the stern (rear) of a ship located at the vessel’s aft. The poop deck provided captains with a critical vantage point to navigate the boat and oversee the ship’s crew. It has nothing to do with the poop that is subject of today’s discussion.
Unfortunately, for the rest of our stay with Ann, I was not dealing with coprolite, but we were able to take Sophie’s usual morning, afternoon and evening strolls. Ann was very concerned about the diarrhea and so all of our walks would feature a debriefing afterwards on the state of Sophie’s poop. “Liquidy” “semi solid”, “well formed – looks like , “got it all in one grab”. With daylight I was able to dispose of the accumulating poop bags on the deck as “skeeeraunch” the garage door opened away went the bags.
At 1:30 a.m. the next night, Sophie’s diarrhea returned. Out we went. I was becoming competent at putting on her harness and leash. It was a warm, dry, night thank goodness. Sophie didn’t wait long to empty her bowels. Ann had alerted me that as soon as the drop was complete, I should pull her away from the scene of the crime so the backwards scratching of the grass would not result in poop dispersal. I did so but in the dark, I lost site of the deposit. I was pretty sure where it was so I did inside/out doggie bag. Unfortunately, I wasn’t directly on the stuff and some got on the outside of the bag when I turned it inside out and consequently got on my left hand as I tied the knot. It was dark but if felt like there was quite a bit of it on my hand as the aroma and squshiness and warmth alerted me to my missed grab. I extended my left arm straight out as far from my body as possible but a breeze provided a constant aromatic reminder of my pickup miscalculation. So there I was at 1:45 a.m. walking Sophie with my right hand holding the doggie bag and her leash nestled in my cubital fossais while my left arm extended at a 90 degree angle as if I was making a left turn. Fortunately, there were neither humans nor dogs out at that hour. Skeeeeraunch garage door was not an option and I would have to return to Ann’s house and somehow open her door with one hand holding the dog and punching her keypad and then open the deck door with that hand while keeping my offending left had a safe distance from the door and the wall. It took a very long time to scrub my hand clean. Perfume couldn’t have a stronger or more lingering aroma than Sophie diarrhea induced fecal deposit fragrance. I occasionally sniffed my left hand as I lay in bed just to be certain. Sleep eventually came.
At 6:30 we were back out again but dawn had broken, and it was easy to sight her leavings. Thankfully, Sophie’s diarrhea began to ease. We slowly left the states of liquid and gas and returned to the states of solid and gas. We had all three states of matter covered over two days. Sophie and I continued our walks and debriefs on the status of the poop which seemed to be rounding into shape (pun intended) with each evacuation. “It’s more poop shaped”. “Good”. Said Ann, and on to “looking poopish.” Finally, the next day, we had a “textbook poop”. By then I had also learned the lay of the land at the Foxwood development, and we had walking routes similar to the ones Ann usually used. Foxwood is a large condominium development, and it has lots of sidewalks and grass and a few trails through “woods”. A complete loop was just about a mile. I was also beginning to recognize other dog walkers who seemed to keep a similar schedule. I didn’t like 5:00 – 6:00 p.m. time frame as there were too many dog walkers and dogs for what was evidently the “post work” canine exercise and bowel movement period. Some dogs were quite unfriendly. Sophie was interested in every dog we saw and there was lots of tugging and barking while restraining dog and holding on firmly to poop bag. I kept her on a short leash and stuck to the lesser populated dog areas.
Sophie’s leash has an attached poop bag holder. You just pull one out and tear and you’re good to clean up the environment. I had a lot of trouble with the pull and tear part and would tend to yank out two or three at a time and have to shove them back in. Using the cubital fossais to hold the leash worked well. Worked well that is until our encounter with two women walking their dogs. The women were on the other side of the street as their dogs walked in the grassy area and waved hello as many dog walkers do. Their dogs were busy. I waved back. The women continued staring at me. I waved again in case they had missed the first wave. They continued to stare. I looked around. I was the only human there. Then, I looked behind me. Evidently, when I tore off the doggie bag, I had not torn it off completely. There on the ground behind we was 6 or 7 feet of unwound but attached doggie bags that gravity had pulled out of the doggie bag container. It looked like I had lost my small intestine. I’m not sure how long Sophie and I and the bags had been walking around like that with the trail of doggie bags behind us. I nonchalantly, yet hastily, gathered the escaped bags into a ball as if it happened all the time. I didn’t look back at the ladies. We returned to Ann’s. Poop shape continued to be satisfactorily poop shaped but the entire roll of doggie bags had to be re-wound and put back into the pouch. Evidently, in a previous, minor unwinding episode I had wound them counterclockwise rather than clockwise.
A positive result of all these walks was that Sophie got tired out and slept until 7 or 7:30. The negative was that I was awake at 6 waiting for the signal to take Sophie out each day. After seven days, Sophie went back to doggie daycare for a couple of days. She was very happy about it. She loves doggie day care and runs to the door to greet the handler. Margaret and I would be leaving in a few days and, while Ann could take Sophie out for a “quickie”, she was not ready for longer walks. After a few days, Ann’s friend, Liz, would walk her.
I am still quite proficient in the art of pooper scooper scooping and I regularly walk our son’s Welsh Terrier when we visit them. If called on I will be able to perform the doggie bag inside outing and tying while holding leash with the cubital fossais while avoiding getting excreta on my other hand. I also casually drop cubital fossais into casual conversation. I know how to wind up escaped doggie bags -clockwise- and put them back in the doggie bag pouch while using that essential crook of the elbow. If any of you need assistance with doggie bag winding or pooper scooper maneuvering while dog walking in the future, kindly call someone else. Thank you.
