Raking leaves is for the dogs

Let me start this post by stating that though I have shoveled snow before, I've never raked leaves. Technically, I still haven't, having purchased a blower/vacuum/mulcher at Home Depot. I mention this not to be completely AR, but because it's semi-important to the story I'm about to unleash upon you.

Like most homes, we have 2 sections to the lawn out front: 1) the large main lawn area and 2) the skinny little Brazilian runway strip between the driveway and the edge of the property. I removed the leaves from the large area about a month ago and left the smaller section undone, mostly because it was such a pain in the arse doing the large area, but also because every time I decide "Tomorrow's the day!", it rains.

Today, with restored vigor and no recent precipitation, I struck out to blow, suck and mulch the rest of the front yard.

Things were going fine until I found the first pile of dog shit. (About 3 minutes in in case you're curious.)

First and only would have been a blessing... Apparently I'm cursed or something. And apparently we've either got roving bands of dogs using that tiny section of my front yard as a communal latrine, or my neighbors have been letting their dogs crap there without bothering to wander over to pick it up.

Whether this is intentional because they know that there's most likely other land mines hidden in the debris or because they're trying to convince me to clean up my lawn earlier next year, I've decided that they all suck for doing this... especially the owner of what can only be a moose that left the Pilsbury cookie tube-sized turds out there for me to deal with.

I scooped up at least 14 individual poops and found another 4 with the mulcher (that was a pleasant experience - NOT). Unfortunately, dried semi-decayed and somewhat moist leaves coupled with fading daylight does not make it easy to spot dog crap on the lawn and by the time I was done, I could feel my Doc Martens were heavier than
they should have been with every step I took ("every move I mook"... thank you Sting...) toward the front door of the house.

I have no idea how many turds ended up on the bottom of each of my boots, caked into every crevice and oozing up the sides of the soles with various twigs and such mixed in. What I wasn't able to scrape off outside with a doggie bag took me a good half-hour to get off with hot water and a toothbrush.

I'd considered just burning the shoes, but I did pay good money for them and they were surprisingly hard to find for a brand that was so popular not too long back (or maybe it was a long while back and I'm just an old coot). Besides, I can't let the neighbors think they got the best of me. So they're clean and drying out on my bedroom floor and should be good as new except for the slight whiff of excrement whenever the AC blows on them.

I'm so glad we're moving.