Dog Poop, and Its Role in Civil Society

I walk Bob twice a day around my neighborhood. I switch up the route so we don’t get bored, and to increase the chances we’ll meet someone new. On these random loops around the city blocks, I have made a few observations and conclusions about dog poop. Or more specifically, people’s reaction to dog poop.

We begin with the fact that dogs do indeed poop. It would be very unhealthy for them if they did not.

Responsible dog owners pick up said poop with the patented plastic-bag-grab-flip-inside-out maneuver. We responsible dog owners are immediately recognizable by the little bags of poop we carry around until we can find a suitable trash receptacle (which my recycling bin is NOT, thank you very much). It may seem counterintuitive, but a person is actually more approachable when he or she is carrying a bag of poop. This signals that the person is a) responsible and b) not above a little scut work when the occasion demands it.

In general, my neighborhood has a high percentage of responsible dog owners. And a pretty reasonable tolerance for the irresponsible ones, in that the place is not littered with “Curb Your Dog” signs.  The church across the street is an exception, but I don't blame them since there’s a school attached. You don’t want the kids tracking it inside after recess. And to their credit, the church has a sense of humor about it:

But there is one block in this whole neighborhood where the local dog poop norms and mores don't seem to apply. On this one block, several houses have signs which suggest “Don’t even think about letting your dog poop in my yard!”

I'm OK with "please clean up after your dog" signs. But not to let a dog poop in the first place? Is this a concern at the possibility that a mere molecule of poop could be left behind? Hmm, sounds like there may be some control issues?

In this context, I find the headless pooping dog on the right particularly disturbing.

What is also odd is that, on this same block, one house has a statue of St Francis of Assisi. And that yard always has bags of poop lined up against the fence.

I have pondered why this one block exhibits such atypical attitudes and behaviors toward poop compared with the rest of the neighborhood. I have imagined a number of scenarios how this microcosm could have evolved. Some scenarios do not reflect the general friendliness of my environs (but would make a good short play - "Poop Wars"). So all I'll say that St Francis really IS an animal lover if he doesn't mind all that poop piling up!

Lesson: ya gotta take the not so good with the good. Life's a package deal.

Not really a "Be Like Bob" lesson, but I wouldn't have learned it if it weren't for Bob, so...

Good lesson. Thanks Bob.

Bob's Emotional Life

I have concluded that Bob has three states of mind:

"Contented" covers the 14 or so hours every day that he sleeps. Though maybe he's not always contented while sleeping -- he apparently has some pretty exciting dreams. This also includes the occasional time when I'm reading on the couch and he snuggles up, which is a bit rare because..

"Hopeful" is basically from the time I get home from work until bedtime. Plus before work. He is hopeful for food, a walk, or for me to play with him. Also in this category is the time I am otherwise occupied and he gets into what he knows he shouldn't, just to get my attention. Shoes, gloves, pens, reading glasses, whatever is accessible via counter-surfing. He has me pretty well trained here -- I do stop what is occupying me to take whatever away before he damages the item or himself.

Sigh, and then there's "Insane." Occasionally a brain virus overtakes him and he tears all over the place like a maniac. I will try to capture this on video and post. It's pretty funny. There are also the times when he perceives a random, obscure, but serious threat to his pack. I have dealt with this by standing strong and tall and saying in my most authoritative voice "Go Away." Then I inform Bob that his pack leader has eliminated the threat and he can stand down. Sometimes it actually works.

I considered a fourth category, "Sniffing" which he does pretty much 24/7. But that's not really a state of mind. Rather it's a supporting behavior for any one of the other three.

So, am I like Bob? Unfortunately, no. First off, I am the breadwinner of the household so have to spend a good bit of time "Focused" on being a corporate drone. But of my non-corporate-droneness life, I have to admit that my "Insane" pie slice is a whole lot larger than Bob's. Taking things personally, agonizing over the past, worrying about the future. And I also have had my attacks of brain virus, which are a whole lot less funny than Bob's.

Lesson: spend less time being insane and more time being contented or hopeful.

Oh, and maybe I should sniff more.

Good lesson. Thanks Bob.

p.s. As a scientist, I have to acknowledge that the pie chart is not terribly precise.  There are times when I can't quite tell where Bob's mind is. Like this picture -- could be any one of the three.

Work-Life balance

I worked from home today. Just a lot of teleconferences and webmeetings so there wasn't a lot of need for "facetime" in the office. That generally works well for most of the day - Bob sleeps just as he would if I weren't here. Come around 3 pm, he starts to get a bit antsy. Of course, when I'm not here til after 5, he's fine. But if I'm here, the timeline shortens. Today,the antsies were a bit annoying, since I still had two late afternoon conference calls. One of which I was leading, so going on mute to avoid broadcasting the barking and howling and whining was not an option. I let him out in the back yard, and he promptly climbed up the fire escape to the 2nd floor apartment, from where he is afraid to come down. (I'm a little afraid for him to try it too. It's steep!). Had to ask my colleagues to take a break while I rescued him. They graciously complied.

Yet, I was annoyed. I have a BIG IMPORTANT JOB! I have a freaking PhD! I should SO not have to climb up a steep scary fire escape to scoot my panicking tank of a dog safely down the freezing cold metal steps on my keister! In the middle of a MEETING!

And yet there is no WAY I would leave him up there shivering in both fear and cold.

And my collegues were absolutely fine with it. When I got back to the teleconference, they were sharing their own pet stories. And then we had a very productive discussion on the work front. (it helped that Bob was still a bit scared/grateful so not so disruptive!)

Lesson: People understand that you have a life outside work. And by admitting it, you acknowledge that THEY have a life outside work. And they appreciate it.

Oh, but that's right, this is all about Be Like Bob. And THAT lesson is ask for help even if it might be inconvenient.

Good lessons. Thanks Bob

Naming Bob

I'm an amateur actress. Community theater devotee. I name my pets after parts I have played. So a male dog presents a bit of a problem in that the options are more limited. But I had a few gender-neutral character names in my pocket. One was Smitty from "How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." Gosh I had fun in that show! And the other option was from the "Nunsense" canon. I was Sr. Robert Ann. And pre-show meet-n-greet line was "Call me Bob."

So my choice was between Smitty and Bob. Now that I reflect, both  characters are beautifully open to whatever comes along. But that barrel-chest. Yeah, he's Bob.

Which is a little tricky. I've dated a couple guys named Bob. Huh, occurs to me that both relationships were  especially meaningful. Huh. Anyway, it is possible that I will meet a guy named Bob. And he might not be crazy about sharing a name with my dog.

But then, if he can't deal with my dog's name, maybe he's not the right man for me. We're a package deal. Me and Bob.

Be Like Bob lesson -- listen to who you really are.

Good lesson. Thanks Bob

OK, here's the background

My 7th dog died in April of 2009. (recall that Bob is my 8th) In addition to grieving her death, I also knew in my gut that she was the glue of our marriage. We were staying together for the dog.

I gave him time to grieve -- she was his first dog -- oops, no second. When we met, I had a beloved purebred  who tragically died at only 5, and he loved her as much as I did. Umm, there was a lot of other shit that happened at the same time she died. Maybe for a later post. Anyway, after a year I started lobbying for another trip to the Humane Society. He argued that he wasn't willing to risk this pain again. I kept pushing. He bonded with our (standoffish) cat. Said cat (who had actually become quite lovable) died in his lap in November 2010.

I knew that we had been staying together for the cat. Umm. Up a Crick.

And sure enough, he left me in February 2011.

Ah, it's hard to even look at the words "February 2011". The pain, the emotional hemorarrghing. Ouch. OK. Breathe.

The Friday after he moved out, I was driving into work and decided right then to take a half day vacation that afternoon and get MYSELF a dog.

Welcome!

Bob is my dog. He's a puggle (pug/beagle mix). But I think he's got some other stuff in there -- I actually sent in a DNA sample, so we'll find out soon enough!

Having regaled my Facebook friends with Bob's antics for nearly two years now, I have been talked into creating a blog.

Sure, I'll include the funny stories, but this is more than that. Bob is my teacher, and I have decided I need to be more like Bob. Unfortunately there's apparently another blog called belikebob,so that's why this is "GONNAbelikebob".  But maybe not so unfortunate. It hammers home the point that I will always be striving to be more Bob-like...

So what is it about Bob? Well, he is the friendliest dog I have ever known.  And he is the 8th dog I've had in my life, and counting all those dogs' friends, let's just say I've known a LOT of dogs! He will toddle up to anyone -- canine or human -- with a little pug underbite smile, ears flapping, tail wagging. And I do mean "toddle" -- he's so barrel-chested that he bounces side to side and his front legs kind of go in circles rather than forward and back.

So, really, who could resist that? As it turns out, there are a few, both canine and human. And if that happens, he just toddles off to make friends with someone else.

So, my first act of being like Bob is:

• assume people want to be friends
• if it turns out they don't, walk away and don't take it personally.

Not a bad lesson. Thanks Bob!