Lilly and the Etiquette of Poop

I don't know how the rivalry started, but I remember how it ended.

Late one night I took Charlotte out to pee. In the dark a black lab stealthily creeped up to us like a panther ready to pounce. I grabbed Charlotte and held her close. I was ready for an attack. This dog sniffed a little, pooped near my feet and took off. Her mom called out, "Don't worry, it's just Lilly."

Lilly lives across the street and walks around the neighborhood off leash. A lot. Without her owners. Big dog off leash around my little dog equals nervous owner!

Charlotte would lead us across the street to eliminate. Most of the time it was near the side of the road on no ones particular property. Other times it was at Lilly's house. One time she even dropped off a pine cone near a rock, so Lilly could see it from behind her fence. It felt mocking. Or at least that's how my husband and I would talk about it.

Way to go Charlotte. You really showed her! (And then I would tell myself to get a life.)

One day I took Charlotte out to pee and she led me to Lilly's house again. In the middle of a poop Lilly's mom came out.

"Are you letting her poop right there?"

Letting her? I didn't think I had a choice. A dog's gotta go when she goes.

"I'll clean it up." Ugh. Why did I say that? Lilly comes up to our yard which is no where near the street just to poop.

"It's just that we're trying to do something with this area." What? Grow grass? We live in the forest.

I walked Charlotte home and grabbed a plastic bag. I walked back over and picked up her poop. Lilly's mom started to back down.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. It's so small, it's really not a big deal."

"No, I understand," I said. "We're trying to do something with our yard too and Lilly walks up there to poop sometimes."

"Oh. I didn't know. I'll try to keep her from doing that."

Charlotte and I walked away. I felt bad. I've lived in this neighborhood nine years and the first time I talk to this neighbor is about our dog's poop. Nice.

I took Charlotte around the block to clear my head. I need to make this right. I don't want to be that neighbor that lets her dog poop anywhere and isn't friendly.

We made our way back to Lilly's house where my neighbors sat on their porch.

"Hey, I think we got off to a bad start talking about our dog's poop. I'm Julia and this Charlotte."

We must have talked for 15 minutes about our pups, work, and her husband's terminal illness. They're no longer just Lilly's parents. They have names and stories.

And I'm no longer imagining a rivalry. I also pick up  my dog's poop.