I have an almost pathological fear of one of the most disgusting substances known to womankind, it’s quite irrational and at the moment it’s made me take a new route to the village shop to try and avoid this substance, this almost fear has also rendered me unable to get off my ever-increasing backside and go for a run. I put my hand up – I have this thing about dog poo, some might call it an obsession. With workmen digging up parts of the village that I live in and leaving clods of mud around this messing with my head somewhat, what is dog poo? What is mud? It’s just too much; a detour needs to be made to avoid the risk of stepping in the mud or poo. I was walking home from the village shop a few days ago ( pre-Severn Trent Water workmen) innocently walking my wavy way home avoiding the dog poo and any spots that may have had previously had poo on when a man (with a dog) shouts over to me “you’re supposed to walk trough it!” To me stepping in the poo feels like it could be the worst thing that could happen to me, or even the poo entering my home on someone else’s foot. If this awful event were to happen the shoes would be binned, floors would be scrubbed, carpets shampooed, crisis team called. Then I would still worry that there would be poo residue on the lino or carpet.
I was discussing with my brother and his wife over the weekend about perhaps getting a Wii, a way to get fit without having to come into contact with the dreaded dog poo, as I’m now approaching 10 stone, the heaviest I’ve ever been something needs to be done. My brother suggested running, “but there’s dog poo in them fields” (mock Yorkshire accent) “just watch where you run” he suggests. ”The fields are full of poo.” “Well stick to the pavements.” “They’re full of poo too!” “You need to see someone!” I agree, this is a problem, if this is stopping me from getting myself fit, it’s a problem.
I don’t have a dog myself (what a surprise!) but I do have a cat and about a week ago I swiftly dealt with poo that had escaped from her litter tray, easy, scooped up with an anti-bacterial wipe and flushed down the loo, floor bleached, simples. However if it was a dog poo, time to move house methinks.
Back to the conversation with my brother and his wife, she says to me – “what would you do if you had a baby?” “Simple, train them to walk on stilts to avoid the poo!”