Dear Little Children in Our Building:

I used to like listening to you laugh and shriek and scream. I used to think it was pretty cool that you all had a place to play right outside your door. Now, the sound of your voices fills me with dread. Why? Because when I take Trixie to do her business, you won’t leave me alone!

I picked a spot that was kind of enclosed between two bushes. I picked it because I thought it would be out of the way and it would leave the big grassy area open for you kids to play in. But now you have decided that you want to play in *those* bushes.

I don’t even mind that you play in there. But you stay quiet until I’m right up on you, taking the harness off and extending her leash. then you all shriek “She can’t poo here!” I know you’re the kids and I’m the adult, so I try to explain that I won’t be long and I’ll pick it all up, and I try to explain that the building manager doesn’t want her pooping on someone’s front lawn, but of course that goes over your heads. You’re kids, what do you care? You just keep shrieking. By this point, I have made her leash long and she’s starting to circle, so it’s hard to change spots.

In the early days, I used to ask you if I could borrow your spot for a second so she could go to the bathroom. You would say yes, then follow me up there with her, chase her around and try to pet her. Can you give her a moment of privacy, please? She’s going to the bathroom! The funniest thing you did was run up to her and yell eeewww! right after I told you she was about to drop a poop bomb. “She’s pooping, she’s pooping!” you cried, immediatley followed by “You’re picking it up!” Well what else am I supposed to do? Maybe what threw you off was the fact that the plastic bag I put on my hand was clear so it looked like I was picking up the gifts in my bare hands.

And this is a small thing. Can you plese not litter? If you decide to camp out in the bushes with popsickles and pop, can you take the popsickle sticks and pop cans away when you leave? They are too much temptation for the Trixter, and…it’s just not nice to litter!

I’m sure we can work this out and get along, I mean, you’re cute and all. So, either tell me you’re in the bushes when you see me coming, or let me have them for a few minutes. Then you can have them back, I promise! And plese stop petting Trixie when she’s…occupied if you will. If you want, back off a bit and stick around until we’re done. Then I’ll let you pet her.

Thanks in advance,

Carin and Trixie

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