I have the greatest dog in the world. I adopted Jasper from a shelter a year and a half ago and feel grateful for him every day. All he has to do is look at me and I crack up. And he is the best cuddler ever… except for taking over my queen size bed, every night. I walk him every morning, and every night. 94% of the time, I am great at picking up after him. But every once in a while, if it’s a multiple poo kind of walk and I run out of bags, I leave it. Yes, I’m ashamed to admit it. I’m “that” neighbor. It’s a rarity, but it has happened.
This morning I got totally nailed for it. While taking Jasper on the usual stroll down Montecito, a woman in a mini-van from a house I recognize pulled up next to me and said, “My neighbor says you’ve been leaving poop on my lawn.” Uhhhhh… I panicked. I was clearly holding a bag of poop, so there’s evidence that I do pick it up. But in the back of my mind, I knew I was guilty of this offense (but seriously, this has only happened a COUPLE of times). But what was I to do in that moment? I mumbled, I was awkward, I told her I was sorry, and she drove off angry.
Okay, so what are we supposed to do when confronted by the factthat not only are we imperfect, but we’ve made our neighbors lives worse? In my grandiose “It’s a Wonderful Life” daydreams, I like to think that everyone’s life is better because I’m in it. I’m pretty sure this isn’t true all the time, but I at least want to arc in that direction. However, I was, realizing that these neighbors of mine must have a pretty low opinion over me. Because of poo.
I walk of shamed it home, drove to work, and started thinking. What was there to do but offer a real, sincere apology… and cookies? As much as I want to deny it, or justify myself, I needed to apologize, and make it good. So I felt anxious about it all day, but as soon as I got home I revved up the oven and popped in some chocolate chip cookies. Then I sat down with 4 note cards and started writing. At one point I almost talked myself out of it, convinced that normal people just feel kind of bad, gripe about it to their boyfriends (which I did), and move on with their night. But something just kept tugging me. This is the season of Advent, looking forward to Christ incarnated in the world. So here I am in the (literal) mess of the world, what would Christ have me do?
“Dear neighbor, you spoke to me today about… I am ashamed to admit that on a few occasions I have… I am so sorry and promise to never do it again. If you’d like to express further frustration please call me at… May this season be filled with joy and love for you and your family…. Sincerely, Kristin Flores.”
Oh the humiliation of writing an “I’m sorry for dog poo” card! But I did it. I wrote 4 of them actually (3 for the surrounding neighbors), packed up 4 baggies of fresh chocolate chip cookies and set out. On the 3 surrounding houses I left cookies and card and ran. Didn’t really feel like explaining myself there. But at the woman’s house that talked to me, I rang the bell. Lots of big dogs were barking just inside the door, but she finally made it out, and looked completely bewildered to see me.
Unsure of what to do, I just launched in. “You spoke with me, I’m so sorry…” Pretty much a recap of the note. I think I might have looked pretty pathetic standing there in the cold, earnestly apologizing for dog poo while holding a bag of cookies and a note. Finally, as I came to the end of my sorry apology, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and pulled me in for a hug, telling me that the neighbors have actually be doing this to her for a long time, and that they were looking for someone else to blame and that of course it was ok.
Then we shared each others names, and shook hands. This is a neighbor I have lived near for a year and a half, and only now did we meet. It turned into a really beautiful moment that I’m not sure what to do with just yet. It was only after facing up to the ugly dog-poo related offense that we got to connect as humans.
There are about 19 trite morals of the story that I could bust out right now. But I’ll let you use your imagination.
We humans (and stray dogs) sure find each other in the funniest ways.
