Saturday, December 15, 2007
Descended from Apes
Mateo usually has to go out one last time right before I have to go to bed. So, that means that after I have brushed my teeth and--in weather like we have been having--put on my sweats, he has to go for a little walk. Because I don't want to have to get up any earlier than my 6 o'clock alarm, I take him to see if he has to poo.
He's a choosy little devil and won't go on the other side of the street near his normal peeing tree--he has just figured out how to pee on vertical surfaces and I am very proud of his leg-lifting efforts--so that means that I have to cross the street where the exit ramp for the interstate empties into our neighborhood. Since people have just been driving 80 mph or more on the 805, they sometimes disregard the speed limit signs and the stop sign and just barrel into our neighborhood. This makes the late-night dog walk a dicey undertaking.
So, on Wednesday last, I had taken Mateo out for a successful visit to a patch of grass a few blocks away and was returning triumphantly to our condo and bed, when I had to re-cross the 805 ramp. I looked, and the nearest car was a good hundred feet down the ramp and not moving too quickly, so I began to cross, Mateo in one hand and the results of his walk in a plastic bag in the other.
The driver, however, didn't seem to be too concerned with the fact that she was entering a neighborhood or that their might be actual people and not just other cars about. So, though I was in front of her with dog in tow, she didn't stop. No big deal, I suppose. I quickly jumped back and pulled Mateo behind me, but she remained oblivious. She continued driving.
But let me tell you this, it is amazing what a well-aimed bag of dog feces can do to make one realize that she should really look more carefully and actually stop at stop signs. And, in case you're wondering poop against a window makes a pleasing sound.