TGIF

We received a very civilized scolding this week by our campus director and activity director.  We have been 'reported' by fellow residents for 1.) letting the big dog run off-leash and 2.) neglecting to pick up a tiny poo in the interior hallway left by the five pound dog.  All our fault, of course, but still.  We've been letting them off-leash less frequently lately because we know the on-leash policy, but apparently a neighbor reported us on Saturday for the dog being some feet away from Steve.  And the poo incident?  Steve took Lucy down to the Memory Care Unit to participate in our regular "Meet and Greet" with residents and dogs, for therapeutic purposes.  While at the reception desk, Lucy had to go.  Steve cleaned it up immediately.  But, apparently somewhere in our own hallway on the way home something dropped off her bottom unbeknownst to Steve.  We later found a note on our front door with a doggy bag attached "For your dog poo in the hallway."  We searched the hallway, no poo to be found.

Frankly, I wish whomever left the note and just knocked on our door to give us a heads up, instead of reporting it to the director.  Apparently they think we are out of control over here at Chez Barbour of the First Floor East.  We would have shuddered in horror, as would be appropriate, grabbed a dog bag and followed them to the scene of the crime.  Mind you, her poops are the size of an almond.  Now we search our hall-mates faces, wondering who was so offended they felt they had to report us.  We've been here a year next month, and this is the first 'poo infraction.'  We a friendly bunch here, so I'm mystified why they didn't feel free to approach us directly.

There was also a complaint that we weren't picking up the poops outside.  Absolutely untrue.  We go outside armed with dozens of bags which we use assiduously.  Seems we're going to get tagged with every violation now that we obviously can't be trusted to follow the rules.

Can you tell I'm a little defensive?

So, we committed to keep the dogs on-leash at all times, and keep the dogs to the approved areas inside the building.  It's only right and fair, after all.  Our actions did spur some updates to the dog policy, and a new rule for new residents with dogs: they will be assigned a host specifically who is trained in the policy who can thoroughly and adequately explain it.  The thing I really hate is that now we are the subject of conversation.

Last Sunday drove the dogs back to their old running grounds at Sycamore Park.  We had a break in the rain and took advantage of it.  The dogs were in doggy heaven, running all over the park and literally leaping with the joy of freedom.  We reminisced about how wonderful it used to be to open our back gate and let the dogs run wild in the park.  We passed by the old house and I noticed a bag of soil leaning up against a pine tree: exactly where I left it a year ago.  We miss the house, the yard, the park but we are simply not up to keeping up with it.  Such is life.

I spent the week licking my wounds, and I think I'm over it now.  I resisted the urge to email our doggy group to assure them we had a serious and thorough meeting with the powers-that-be and that we would be good little dog owners from here on out.

Onward and upward, kiddos.