written by: Dottie Moore • one of our first PCE residents
In 1987, when I was 39, I moved to New Jersey with Toto, a mixed terrier that I adopted in 1983, and Kitty, a cat I adopted in 1973. It was a big change for the three of us, an expensive change, and a step down from the quality of life we enjoyed in Florida. But in the company I worked for, if you wanted a promotion, you had to do your time in New Jersey. Besides, I had grown up just outside New York City and had loved living there.
Toto was my first dog, and I gotta admit, I was a slow learner. Because in Florida I had a big fenced-in yard, I did not have to walk her often. At least I didn't think I did. And I never had to pick up after her. Didn't think I had to.
Of course, in New Jersey it was different because I lived in a condo, and I had to walk my dog. But I was lucky. There were heavy woods across the street from my unit, and if we walked over there, and she went in the woods, no problem with pick-up. Toto had this thing, though, where she would walk round and round in a circle until she finally decided to squat and go. Have you ever been to New Jersey in the middle of winter? I would just beg with her in a barely hushed whisper, "Toto, go. Puhleeeeese, just goooooooooooo." Shiver. Shiver. Shiver.
Late one fall night we walked down the steep hill to another woody spot so that she could do her circles somewhere else for a change. But, alas, we didn't make it, and she pooped on the grass. Even though it was pitch black dark, and I might have gotten by with just leaving it there, my conscience said no. Or my paranoia told me somebody was watching us. Was I smart enough to bring along a plastic bag or something? Of course not. So, I frantically looked around, and, lucky me, I found the perfect thing. A long stick. I stabbed the evidence, and with Toto dragging the leash on my left and the "shish-ka-poop" sticking straight up in the air on my right, we set up the hill on our way home. I was hugely proud of myself. Pure genius, I thought.
It was late and very dark, and there was not a person to be seen. But, as we approached the top of the hill, and within sight of home, a car headed our way. And, as the car came closer, the high beams came on and shone brightly on me, Toto, and the "shish-ka-poop." Me holding that stick straight up in the air. For all to see. Good grief.
From the Editor/HOA:
Dog Poop continues to be a major problem in our community. It's the law that you must pick up your dog's poop. Some residents have been observed bagging their dog's waste and throwing it in the storm drain. This feeds directly into our lake and aquifer.
Here's an educational info graphic that explains why we need to properly dispose of dog poop:
