Posts Tagged ‘Droppings’

Should ‘Milo’s droppings be picked up?

November 28, 2017
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Milo at peace with the world

Many no doubt remember the days when dogs roamed free around suburban circuits and their shopping strips. In our own suburb of Balmain it became very fashionable to have dogs as pets, and there even seemed to be a correlation between the size of the house and the size of the dog. Generally, the smaller the house, the bigger the dog.

There was no law on dog dropping and I remember hopping and skipping trying to avoid huge piles of dog shit on the footpath. People used to scrape their shoes on the concrete kerbs with the more fastidious and gymnastic pedestrians carefully picking the  groves in their shoes with a piece of stick specially taken for just such an occasion.

For a short while, councils introduced painted signs asking dogs to be kerbed. It showed a dog squatting with a nicely formed dropping suspended in mid-air between the dog’s arse and the kerb. Quite a creative bit of a sign really. After a few years a law was passed that all dogs had to be walked on a lead and the days of dogs shitting hither and dither with the resulting littering of footpaths disappeared. Most dog walkers take a plastic bag to take care of any impromptu dog defecating events. You sometimes see  a little plastic bag suspended from the dog’s lead proving the diligence of the dog walker in doing their civic duty and follow the law on dog droppings by picking it up. Some people even bought a special scoop to pick up dropping. It seemed too complicated and I think they have now disappeared. They turn the plastic bag inside out, pick the still warm dropping up  by hand, and turn the bag around to its original form, but now containing the dog’s product.

All this because a few days ago a man ambushed me from behind his garden fence to tell me to pick up Milo’s little turd. “You are not leaving your dog’s shit on the grass verge,” are you, he said? I immediately crouched down and picked up a small brown branch of a wild cherry tree. I answered and said, “I was only too happy to pick Milo’s little shit up but could not find it.” I showed him the little branch and took out my handkerchief. “If I can find it, I will put it in my hanky and in my pocked,” I said.

The man calmed by now. I showed him the branch and still on my knees poked around the grass trying to find Milo’s small and dry little turd. Apparently it was so small it just did not show up.  My eyesight is not he best. The man then relented and said; “no need to put it in your hanky and in your pocket.” “And what is in your hand is just a little cherry branch”. “I am sorry, he apologized.”

Perhaps he felt being a little too severe.

Milo looked up. He did sneak one in somewhere. Should I have looked better and more thoroughly?

What do the readers think of this etiquette of picking up dog shit? Milo’s toilet habits are perfect. He usually goes right underneath some bushes and never on the foot path. Never.

The art of being ‘easy going’ is understood by male kangaroo.

November 16, 2016
The old boy at rest.

The old boy at rest.

We noticed the familiar sight of kangaroo droppings walking around the bush on our way to the beach. They are shaped almost square. The wombat’s dropping too are square shaped. It makes one wonder. Nature is so surprising. I doubt they have square shaped bums but the question does crop up. Both animals are vegetarians so there is nothing unappetising about the droppings of those Australian native animals.

We have different habits of observation. While Helvi scans the tree tops or heavens, my sight is mainly downwards. It often matches my mood. Hence the discovery of animal droppings, if nothing else. In cities it has paid off handsomely by finding money, mainly coins. One of my grandsons has the same gene.

When around six years old or so, Max used to crawl on shop floors to look underneath soft drink or chocolate and chips automat dispensers finding money to supplement his pocket money. I encouraged him as much as possible. He has now progressed in buying bulk six packs of small soft drink cans from Aldi and selling them each at his school at a hundred percent profit. The only draw-back is that his schoolbag is now loaded by soft drinks more than schoolbooks.

As we wandered through this lovely Bendalong national park I nearly stumbled on this large kangaroo. His colouring was so in tune with the surroundings. A perfect camouflage between beast and bush. As you can see, he is large. Like the lorikeets, he seemed at ease with humans. He did not jump up and make a run for it. Kangaroos are normally very alert to humans and leave us well alone. Good reason too. Many a kangaroo has met his end by men fired bullets. The news must have got around that people here are nature bound. Hence the relaxed pose by this huge male kangaroo. One almost expect him to light up a ciggie or perhaps read a good Tolstoy,(Anna Karenina, Book one.)

Another reason for this relaxed pose was the presence of a mob of smaller females a bit further on. A couple of females had the feet of gangly joeys sticking out of their pouches. They were his wives. It is not easy to become a good husband to kangaroos. Males put up fearful fights with other males to win the honour of gaining the love and attention of females. He had obviously won this battle, been very busy, and was now simply having a restorative post-coital nap in the shade of the eucalypts.

It is not easy for males.