I open the front door to take the pooches out for the morning walk and the first thing I see is smeared cat poop on the front walk. "How does she know it's cat poop?", you wonder. Well, one of the cats across the street has decided that the sidewalks of the world are it's litterbox. It does not go in the grass. I have seen the poor misguided creature in action, scratching on the concrete and then doing it's business.
So we commence our walk and I am looking very forward to the fun clean up job facing me when we return home. During our walk, Rocky has his own problems with bowel action leaving him feeling not so fresh on the rear guard. Great! Two fun fecal-oriented tasks first thing in the frickin' morning.
I get Rocky all tidied up with a few baby wipes and then I go out front to face the walkway. I scooped up what I could with a hand trowel and then hosed the rest away.
Is it too early to open a bottle of champagne? I am quite ready to bid farewell to 2005.