Dog Poo!

I have three dogs that I walk each day.  Marco "El Pollo" Polo, a found shepherd and doberman mix, weighs 106 pounds, and his two friends, Zoot! and Fat Cow weigh 35 and 45 pounds respectively.  As a citizen, I go to great efforts to pick up after them when they visit a neighbor's yard on the walk.  It has become quite a process.

You'd think this was pretty straight forward a chore.  No.  As a tightwad, I refuse to use more than one bag per trip if I can help it.  And, I want my neighbors to know that I am acting responsibly to keep dog poop off their feet, out of their yards, and out of the groundwater.  So, each day I start out with bags and chalk and dogs and set off on one of several routes around my neighborhood.

I have discovered several things about the technique and have worked hard to develop my Kung Poo (with apologies to the martial arts).  At the first squat, I prepare a bag.  First, my hand goes inside so the bag itself serves as a glove.  I pick up the pile, or in Zoot!'s case, piles, and turn the bag inside out, careful to keep the poop away from the top edges of the bag.  It is warm, yes, it is soft, yes, it is stinks, yes, so I twist the bag closed and bend its neck around the fingers of whichever hand can take it in my juggling of three leashes.  But wait, there's more!  With a bit of chalk, on the sidewalk, I draw a heart and put in the initials of whoever was the author of this incident, then carry the bag along to the next stop.

It gets a little tricky if everyone goes, especially Marco, and sometimes I wish I could just let go and use more bags.  But what are ya gonna do; don't we all have an obsession or two?

Three Dogs Walking

When we moved here two years ago, I began walking our three dogs around the neighborhood with chalk in my pocket.  I drew stick figures of the four of us and labelled them "three dogs walking".  Chalk, of course, is easily removed by rain, which we don't have, and regular wear, which we do, so my grafitti is neighbor freindly.  Eventually, I adopted a symbol, adding a date and arrow signifiying the direction we were going.  Occasionally, I might add a cartoon greeting  to whoever came by or an eye keeping "neighborhood watch" on an empty house. Through four or five routes I might scatter a dozen signs as I collected poop, put trash in bins or passed homes of friends I've made.

A few weeks ago, I began to see other symbols; a lightning bolt descending into a low arc over three circles.  It appeared at some of my  own marked corners, in front of my house, and in the drive of the home of its maker.

A strange trespass that I hope to encourage.  South Austin has a reputation as the home of weirdness.  I like to think we have a little better sense of friendliness and camaraderie.  It is just one more sign that I am truly home.

Feathers of a Bird

Since I came to Austin, I have become a busy birdwatcher.  My own backyard is visited by the ever-present Mourning Doves and the occasional Grackle, who sound like winding and clanking machinery when they roost, but better birds visit each day.  For three years now, Mockingbirds, Robins, Blue Jays, Cardinals, Black-crested and Tufted Titmice, Chickadees, House Wrens and a variety of sparrows have visited my two feeders and birdbath placed strategically within view from the couch as we watch television.  While the Green Parrots that I have seen about Austin have never visited us here in Mauserica, I do have a returning pair of Golden Headed Woodpeckers, a pair of Downy Woodpeckers, and a Ruby Throated Hummingbird who regularly checks out the flower stickers my wife put in the window to keep the stupid doves from breaking their necks (at least one crashes the window every day!).  We even see the occasional Red-tailed Hawk's shadow as he glides over the canopy in our backyard.

All that to say this.  All those birds crowded around a feeder drop a lot of feathers.  Downy pin feathers, long pinions, and everything in between.  As a compulsive collector and artist (anything you have enough of can become art), I pick up every one and drive their quills into the tops of the palings in my fence.  Every paling gets one, and when they are full, I add a second or third.  When the wind blows they wave, wink in the mottled sunlight, and sometimes even bow like grave Japanese.  I like to think of each one as a salute to finding joy wherever it happens.

 If I found enough feathers, could make my own bird?

An Accidental Garden

I can't be the only one.

Last spring I gathered my carefully chosen seeds, created a sprouting bed of worm-dirt, compost and potting soil.  Planted row upon row of flowers; eight varieties of color and bloom.  I watered assiduously, weeded and thinned my little plot.  Soon I had a dozen or more in each row, strong sprouts.  I planted them in my yard with a shovel of their potted dirt all along the edge of my garden. 

None bloomed.

However, I have eaten two pounds of butternut squash and four tomatoes from plants I never put down.  In all, five pepper plants, one butternut squash, a giant sunflower, and five tomato plants of three varieties have grown to bloom and are beginning to fruit.  Suddenly I actually have more of some vegetables than I am wanting to eat.  Good for me. 

Now, if I could accidentally grow money....

Good Manners

If you know me, you've heard me talk about "The Alice Principle"; the belief that, taken to their logical conclusion, good manners can save the world.  When Alice is confronted by the caucus of birds she politely slips away.  She manages to avoid all sorts of unpleasantness through the simple expedient of good manners and the knowledge of when to leave; the latter determined by the responses to her overtures.  When manners fail to garner a return in kind, Alice simply leaves with as little damage to her self or reputation as possible.  So, I have been researching.

I have discovered that the purpose of manners is to "make other people feel more important than yourself."  Manners is the formal aspect of Respect; a code of behavior that expresses the intrinsic value and human rights of every "other" individual.  Manners is the expression of Respect. 

Respect requires the individual to focus on the comfort and feelings of others.  Some basic tenets:
     Recognize levels of societal status.  Older and higher ranking community members are recognized if only for having survived longer and been trusted with more than younger or lower ranking individuals.  As we no longer live in feudal states or with a landed aristocracy, this means presidents, doctors, and seniors outrank citizens, patients, and the younger.
     Recognize natural rights (with the important addition of "Right to Privacy").  This is why you say excuse me when you ask a stranger the time, why you do not take, use, or interfere with the property of others, and why you do not enforce your will on others.
     Recognize the individual tastes and preferences of others and limit public behavior with an eye to common values.  Burp, fart, curse and scratch in the privacy of your own home; don't inflict such idiosyncrasies on an unsuspecting public.
     Seek the comfort of others.  In public, bad behavior is not recognized publicly. Seats on public transportation is given to the less able; older, injured, challenged, belabored individuals.
     Assume the best.  The guy who cuts you off in traffic is not an asshole; maybe just inconsiderate.  Give the benefit of the doubt when safety is not the issue.

Oh, there's more.  Some of it very formal and detailed, but all aimed at creating a coded behavior that eases all parties involved.  And guess what!  It can all be derived from one simple rule.  Treat others as you would like to be treated.

Oh wouldn't it be fine to have smiling encounters in the street, in businesses and communal resources?  Wouldn't you love to be treated as if your happiness were the concern of everyone else on earth?  Wouldn't it be nice to know that everywhere you went, you would be treated as if you were special, worthy, free, intelligent, independent and deserving of humane treatment?

That's how you escape the dangers of Wonderland.