Message from discussion
Dog(Doody)Day Afternoon
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From: Foon <f...@sanonofre.com>
Newsgroups: alt.surfing
Subject: Dog(Doody)Day Afternoon
Date: 9 Apr 2001 12:20:25 -0700
Organization: alt.surfing Team Maryland
Lines: 62
Message-ID: <9at21p0iv@drn.newsguy.com>
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The glorious Spring weekend predicted on the Delmarva did not exactly showup on
time. Saturday was plain butt ugly with foggy drizzle, low clouds, and damp cold
winds off the ocean from the NE. We took in a movie while my mystery neighbor
spent 4 hours nursing a small crumbly swell in 42 degree water and
54 degree air.
Sunday dawned just as miserable with rain showers sweeping the beach, but the
swell bumped to waist-chest high with some nice angled lines coming in from the
SE. As the morning wore on winds came around WSW smoothing and glassing the now
attractive waves. In my entire view of the beach, approx a mile, I saw three
guys out.
Finally the sun came out beautifully and clearly, the air warmed up and I
decided to get a closer look at the chilly waves by taking a walk on the beach.
After a half hour tour of my favorite sandbars I stood in the dune crossing path
savoring my now once every two weeks stogie. Soon a woman with two kids showed
up to walk on the beach. She was walking the fattest German shepard I've ever
seen. Neither the owner nor the dog had missed many meals and I suspect the dog
ate as well as her master.
Within five feet of me the dog takes a huge dump, the kind that comes out like
soft ice cream and lands in a piled up nurdle on the ground. The woman proceeds
to start covering it with sand. I can't believe this:
"Aren't you going to pick up after your dog?" I asked non threateningly.
Even so by the tone of my voice the doggy gets the drift I'm not a long lost
friend and begins that rumbling growl thing.
"Well no, I don't have anything to do it with just now." The owner pleads.
"You should have thought of that before you brought your dog down here for a
walk on the beach. What did you think he was going to do?"
Alarmed looks from the owner and more growls from pooch.
"Well I'll just have to do it next time when I have something."
"I see at least 4 foodwrapper containers within 30 feet that would do the job
if you wanted to." This conclusion I knew was going nowhere.
"No, it'll just have to wait until the next time." She turned away to walk back
both dog and kids are now looking at me like I'm some kind of axe murderer.
"Well I hope there is no next time mame. And I really hope neither of your kids
has the misfortune to step in a dump like that."
They hurry off glancing over their shoulders making sure I don't follow them,
the mother probably speed dialing 911 on a cellphone clutched in her pocket.
It was such a glorious day until that little event. I feel defeated and unhappy
with the outcome. I am tempted to put a little flag on the pile proclaiming it's
origin and warning people to avoid it. Ultimately, I pocket my now extinguished
stogie butt, and scoop up the still fresh turd with a food wrapper and throw it
away in our dumpster.
Later from the balcony I watch a couple of completely neopreened locals coax the
last good waves from the evenings incoming tide. I notice the woman return to
the dunepath walkway and spend a good 5 minutes sifting the sand with hand rake
looking for her pooch's deposit. She eventualy gives up, but just the sight has
made my day; my dog doody day. Another tourist converted.
-Foondoody
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