Friday a.m. The dogs and I stayed in the home neighborhood this a.m. After 2 blocks, the dogs stopped for relief. Patting my pockets, I found myself bagless, unarmed for poop duty. Back to the house, taking a different route to go back to the spot.
As we circled back, there was a spruce tree--fronds of dark green needles hanging down close to me and great spreading branches sheltering above. Most lovely was the trunk, for there on the shiny grey surface, was an irregular pattern of new growth circleing like festive wreaths. Precious new growth in this dry, dry summer.
Most of the north/south streets in this neighborhood are gravel roads. Going back west to do my pick-up duty, we walked on another gravel road, skirting along the Old Portland Highway. The sun low behind us, our three shadows danced ahead. Tiger's mouth is alway hanging halfway open, and her shadow magnified the effect. Our funny dog, I call her my Bapitbe--as she is part Basenji, part pit bull. Zeno is our Lab mix, now ten years old, and likes to take meandering walks with lots of time to sniff. Between our little path and the highway were natural bouquets of Queen Anne's lace, mixed with wild sweet peas and yellow topped yarrow.
I was able to find one of the two droppings--likely Zeno's. Tiger's I'll accept the guilt for when the poop etiquette committee comes to call.