A Rant

Preface: this post completely does not belong on my blog. It is a hormonal induced rant written when I was very pregnant with baby #4 in 2012. It's not about raising my kids per se and it's not a thoughtful reflection. It was meant to be a call to action op-ed in a local paper, and had it been printed, I would have made many enemies and lost many friends. My husband categorically refused, and also helpfully forwarded me a link to the thesaurus listing for "crap". So I'm posting it here, because i just want to get it out. I don't mean to offend anyone's best friends. I just need to say this: 

Here's how I spent my Sunday morning: holding a toothbrush, scrubbing someone's dog's horribly smelling feces out of each of the 800 grooves on the sole of my three-year-old daughter's new patent leather shoe.

I hope yours went better.

I find dogs rather cute, and I think they make great companions. I don't have one; I have three children instead. Walking the streets of Sutton Place with the three of them,  I've gotten my fair share of looks and comments, particularly when they were all under three years old. Yes, dear concerned, child-free, dog-walking neighbor, I have my hands full, and yes- you are right, I have a lot of children. But you sure as hell never had to scrape their feces off the bottoms of your shoes, I can guarantee you that.

My middle child is autistic, but not visibly enough to generate much understanding for his behavior. And the looks I get when he drops into a tantrum mid-sidewalk make me fortunate for my thick skin (no time to work out, obviously) but also leave me wondering as to the fairness of this judgement call from my elegant, dog-walking neighbors. Like any mom, especially an autism mom, I've  had to live with my share of feces and crapisodes (a term coined by an autism mom) but these were all dealt with, calmly or otherwise, in the confines of my apartment. No harm done to anyone but the responsible party--- and that would be me. I had these kids, I handle their excreta. So it goes.

Now why can't dog doo-doo take the same route? You bought the animal, you love the animal, you deal with whatever it produces- in the confines of your home. How often have I walked the streets of my clean and lovely neighborhood, sidestepping fresh smears of canine excrement on the sidewalk and watching someone's labrador urinate into the curb right in front of me or drop piles right in my path? When and how did this become civilized behavior among otherwise exceedingly civilized people?

I raise my arms in protest. This is not civilized behavior. Our streets are not doggie restrooms, even if the owner cleans it up afterwards. An occasional fine for undisposed feces does not make this civilized behavior. You would not be okay if my child did that, and I am not okay when your dog does that.

Lest I bring upon me the wrath of every dog owner in the neighborhood- Im sure I'd be quite outnumbered on the Moms side- I have a solution. Until a dog whisperer cracks the secret to toilet training the canine population, I propose: Doggie Diapers. In a city where dog sweaters, tee shirts and raincoats are part of the cultural code, Doggie Diapers should be an easy sell. Put one on before your daily stroll- it couldn't cost you all that much. Even financially strapped parents manage to buy diapers. I'm picturing styles for females, males, chihuahus, sheepdogs, dalmations-- someone out there will be making a killing. Get the legislation in place first and you have it made.

Doggie Diapers would be humane, discreet and, one may find, a lot more pleasant than lifting your dog's daily deliveries with a plastic-bag-covered hand. I've changed a fair amount of diapers in my years and I can tell you that personally lifting stuff off the floor, gloved or not, is an entirely different and far more nausea-inducing experience.

So: Doggie Diapers. Im busy wiping my kid's shoes these days. Who's it gonna be?