Guest Blog - I Hate Mondays by Bossy

I hate walking the dog. It isn't my pet; I'd rather we didn't have it. We try to teach Taco responsibility and make him walk her. (By walk I mean, take her to do her business and clean up.) Usually he walks her with his dad in the morning before Dad takes him to school. It is their quiet morning bonding time. Fortunately last week Gamer got a job and our morning routine is a little bit out of whack from the adjustment. Today was the first time he had to be at work before Taco had to be at school.

I don't know what it is about me taking them to school, but my kids are the biggest slowpokes on the face of the planet. They never give their dad crap and excuses. So with Dad they are never late. As to be expected today we are running late to walk to school. While I was on the phone with Grandma discussing some blog business he decided to help himself to the XBox and play a video game instead of looking for his shoes. After threatening to throw the TV on the front porch (I love my grandma!) he turned off the game and started looking for shoes. He finally got them on and we have 3 minutes to make the 5-minute walk. "But Mom, I didn't walk Sadie."

Excuse me? I had to kick you off the XBox this morning and you didn't have time to walk your dog. Reluctantly I grabbed a poop bag and agreed to bring the annoying dog on the walk to school. And annoying she was. When she wasn't sniffing everything in sight she was pulling me down the street. Usually Taco holds the leash, but she was pulling so hard she was dragging him down the street. We got to the front of our complex and she started tugging so hard on the leash I was running to keep up. Once we hit the grass, she stopped to poop. At this point the bell rang at school and Taco started freaking out.

She took forever, but finally started cleaning her feet on the grass (my dog thinks she is a cat). Since he was still with me, I made Taco clean up. (Don't judge me, it is his dog and his chore.) As he stepped the two feet from the sidewalk to the dumpster he managed to lose his grip on the bag and drop poop all over the sidewalk. Sadly, I only had one bag, and once I rolled it closed there was no going back for more. He looked like he was going to cry. "Don't worry I will clean it up after you get to school." He nodded and we ran the block to school.

Along the way we have two crosswalks and next to the first crosswalk is a bus stop. Of course the dog wanted to say hi to everyone, but especially the crowd waiting for the bus. Taco and I tried to keep running, but the dog doesn't understand his urgency. When we got to the crosswalk at the school parking lot I realized it was only the warning bell. I stand on the other side and send Taco to line up alone. (Dog plus 100 school-kids in line is a sure sign of trouble.) After watching him arrive safely at the building and dragging the dog away from the attention the crossing guard is giving her, I head home to grab more bags to clean up Taco's mess.

We got to the crosswalk next to the bus stop. In the middle of the road in front of three people waiting for the bus, she decides she needs to go again. Another big pile. And I don't have a bag. The bus crew glared at me while I mumble about going home to grab a bag. The crossing guard is an older gentleman that is the nicest guy on the planet. He looked back as the bus crew started jeering and stared in shock at the dog desecrating his place on the crosswalk. He is too far away to hear me say I will be right back and he sends me the evil eye as I hurry away to get another bag. Last winter after many complaints, our apartment installed clean up stations stocked with poop bags and a trash can. I hurried over to the stand by the office. Out of bags! The next closest station is in the commons area next to my apartment. The dog is driving me crazy sniffing everywhere and wanting to take her time. I decided to swing by my apartment and leave the dog and run back to clean up.

The bus stop crew is all glaring at me when I return. Really people, I actually came back to clean up and you are sending me crustys! The first thing I noticed is a car has managed to run over the pile. I did my best to clean it up knowing that when I pick Taco up from school he will most likely end up getting it on his shoes no matter what. A car pulled up and honked impatiently as I tried to clean poop with dignity. Finally beaten by the cobblestone driveway, I headed back to the pile Taco dropped earlier. I can handle being pooped on by my child, cleaning up Burrito's bathroom disasters at Grandma's, even catching vomit with my hands during road trips, but I seriously think cleaning up after a dog is the nastiest job in the world. I got the other pile cleaned up the best I could on the wet grass and walked back home eager to wash my hands. I opened the back door and I am greeted by this.

Puddle of piddle and a little more poop just for fun. The dog is hiding behind the table looking sheepish. Seriously dog! I guess I should be glad she grabbed some paper towels out of the trash and tried to clean it up herself.