Yesterday, we took Bella to the Giant Shopping center parking lot and walked her around. As her CGC test nears, she has to be able to walk through a crowd. We've noticed over the last couple days that she seems to be scared of everything. We took her out and just got her feet wet, and she seemed to do well. She wasn't scared of anything even as cars we driving by, so we think it was an accomplishment.
The real story begins after we got home. As we pulled her out of the car, I decided to take her on a walk. Chassie told me that she would open the basement door so I wouldn't have to walk around to the front of the house when I finished. Bella and I went off down the sidewalk toward the main road. I noticed as we neared the main road, she started to pull. I thought this was because she was getting nervous of the cars, which has happened in the past, so I pull her along. As we get to the corner and turn around, she's squatting in the grass. I let her finish her business as I realize I don't have a bag to pick it up. I'll just go get one and come back to pick it up, no problem. We start back for home and I notice that there's a few little turds on the sidewalk.... so that's why she didn't want to continue on.
We walk back briskly to the house to get a bag. I put her in the crate and look for a bag where they normally are, no bags downstairs. I head upstairs and grab a bag, run back downstairs and out the door, heading back to the scene of the crime. As I near the first site, I notice that it's no longer in the original shape. Awesome, someone or something found it with their foot or paw in the three minutes since it happened. I pick it up and move on to the next one and then finally to where she completed her business. I tie up the bag and start walked back toward the house when I see another gentleman walking his dog toward me.
"I see you picked up the dog mess," he says to me.
"Yeah. I didn't have a bag with me."
"Well, I stepped in it," he says and lifts his foot to show me the poop on his shoe. "I'll just rinse off the shoe. Thanks for picking up the mess."
"Sorry about that," I said. What I really wanted to say was, "Watch where you're walking." My mom raised me better than that though.
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