The other day, outside behind the garden shed, next to the garage, I found a black plastic bag tied in a knot. It contained something heavy-ish and lumpy, containers of some sort, maybe paint, maybe oil. Anyway, it looked like trash so I put it next to the trash cans.
I thought, perhaps, it had been left by the same person who leaves their dog poop in our trash can. I don’t know who it is, but someone in our neighbourhood walks their dog in our back alley. They dutifully pick up the poop in small black plastic bags and, instead of taking it home, they discard it in my trash can. So, they are at least getting the job half right. The trouble is, we have to leave our trash in bags, not cans, for the refuse collectors to pick up, so I have to transfer the dog poop bag from the trash can to the garbage bag. Not a big deal, but an odd thing for a complete stranger to make me have to do.
On a related note, while I was at the grocery store last week, one of the clerks was expressing her frustration at having to pick up her neighbour’s dog poop from her lawn. In fact, she was ranting a bit, to the point where I said I was a little bit afraid of her. She explained the ongoing dilemma and what she would do if she ever found out where the dog’s owner lived. It wouldn’t be pretty.
I sympathized with her annoyance, and was inspired to tell her my story about the poop in bags in my bin, and she commiserated but said that was better than having to actually pick up someone else’s dog’s poop. I agreed.
Today is the day we put out our trash to be picked up early tomorrow morning, and I was just out there making my garbage bags ready for collection when it occurred to me to look and see what was in the bag that I had found behind the shed. Inside it I found four full cans of beer.
Now I’m wondering if my dog-poop-leaver was in the grocery store that day and heard me grumble about the dog poop in my bin. Maybe the beer was an apology gift or even a thank-you gift.
Nah, probably not.
The bag of beer was more likely to have been dropped by a wandering street person. Alternatively, it may have been left by one of the tradespeople who have been doing some renovations in our house. They could have left the bag out while loading or unloading their truck. Or, it might have been my son accidentally leaving it while unloading the car, but I can’t imagine why he would put beer in a black plastic bag. So, it’s a bit of a mystery.
By the way, there was no dog poop in my bin this week. So, maybe the dog poop miraculously turned into beer! That would be much more impressive than turning water into wine. Yes, that must be it. We have been visited by the dog god. I must remember to tell the grocery store clerk. She’ll be thrilled.
Image source here.
Having someone else’s dog poop on the lawn is not a problem we generally have in most cities in South Africa. High walls usually prevent any uninvited four-legged visitors.
As for waste bins: we don’t use as many plastic bags these days as we all have large wheelie bins and are discouraged from putting waste in plastic bags.
Better all round, I reckon.
I wish we didn’t have to use plastic bags. Having those large wheelie bins is a much better system, but the garbage trucks in our city aren’t equipped for them.
Just the other day, one of my neighbors was reminiscing about when she was a teenager, she and her friends would hide alcohol in yards and bushes to come back for it later…when the coast was clear.
That’s funny, Sally. I would have thought this was true of my little gift, too, except that it was out in the open by the driveway.
[…] readers of Snowbird of Paradise may remember that I once wrote a blog post about finding regular contributions to my back-lane garbage. Someone has been leaving their […]