Clean up poop city, neighbor |

Clean up poop city, neighbor

Matt Zalaznick
Vail, Colorado CO

Edwards is disgusting.

There is a dark underbelly to the eternal expansion of Riverwalk, the hip new restaurants, the half-million-dollar condominiums and the young mothers pushing strollers up and down the bike path.

The snow is stained. Jogging can be like navigating a mine field. So, I want to know: Who are the people who don’t feel like they have to clean up after their dogs?

There is poop everywhere ” and don’t try to blame it on illegal immigrants. I’m talking about the area between Miller Ranch, Freedom Park, the Reserve and Riverwalk ” that’s pretty solid middle-class professional. I bet nine out of 10 residents have their papers in order.

And don’t blame it on the snow, either. I think it’s actually easier to pick up dog poop in winter because you can get a nice buffer of snow around the stinky pile. Of course, it’s more convenient to let the snow bury it ” saves one from the arduous task of bending over and having to find a garbage can.

I think what really bothers people about cleaning up after their dogs is that, in this age of arrogance ” this era of Hummers and permanently attached cell phone earpieces ” bending down to pick up a pile of poop seems so poor and downtrodden.

What self-obsessed master of the universe wants to carry a stinking bag a feces a few hundred yards to the Dumpster? Surely, Donald Trump didn’t get where he is today by wasting his time with a pooper scooper.

That is to say: If you already have a Hummer and your bluetooth earpiece glued to the side of your head, you don’t want to be seen slumming ” or risk having the earpiece plop into the pile and miss being able to have that vital call from the president hands free; if you’re still on your way to Hummer-land, you’re trying to shed all those salt-of-the-earth impulses like not wanting your neighbor ruin her Uggs in your pooch’s poop.

Or perhaps it’s just spite: a way of thinking that says “Why the hell should I do anything for other people? What have they done for me?”

And maybe I’m grouchy, but it seems people are less and less aware that there are other people in the universe, and not cleaning up after dogs is just one symptom of this epidemic of obliviousness.

Next time you drive down Highway 6, count how many times somebody on a cell phone pulls out in front of you from a side street. Then dig the expression of flustered confusion when you blare your horn at them from the Beaver Creek roundabout to the Shop ‘n’ Hop. You’ll realize the driver wasn’t being rude, he just had no idea that somebody else might possibly be on the road or have the right of way when they’re setting out on their critical mission to The Home Depot.

Their eyes seem to bulge with the wonderment that somebody else might be using their state highway.

And who are these people who feel like it’s their right to touch and grope stranger’s babies? My wife was in a coffee shop the other day and a woman, probably well intentioned, felt free to touch our baby ” who’d just gotten over a cold and a tummy bug back-to-back ” over and over and over. Now this woman probably wasn’t Cruella DeVille, but who exactly is enjoying her little love-and-germ-spreading fest?

The baby doesn’t really care and the woman was offended when my wife invited her to stop touching our daughter.

Next time I’m out with the baby ” say at the supermarket ” and some stranger insists on tickling her, I’m going to wait till that person leaves the parking lot, cut them off as they’re pulling into the street, and drive slowly while yammering on my cell phone.

When they pull into the driveway, I’ll call NATO on my bluetooth, then drop a dirty diaper on the stranger’s lawn.

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