That Warmth

Oh, for the love of dog…

There’s a man who walks his dog in the neighborhood. Probably in his 70s. Stocky, not much hair, kinda angry looking. Has a fat cigar in his mouth at 7:15 in the morning. Probably me in 20 years.

I’ve just put my son on the bus. It pulls away and I see the man across the street with his dog. The dog hunches over and the man quickly throws down a plastic bag in the area his dog’s about to do some banking; whereupon the dog makes a deposit.

So, from my vantage point across the street, it looks like the dog is taking care of business in a detached diaper, or small plastic cloud.

This could be me, this man. I can imagine it. I’ve cleaned up after a dog before. I’m familiar with putting my hand at the bottom of a plastic bag, kneeling down, grabbing the matter at hand, feeling its warmth on the other side of single-ply grocery bag grade plastic, then pulling my hand out in reverse, tying off said bag, and throwing it in the garbage. Haven’t we all?

But it seems this guy on the other side of the street might be on to something. What if you could double it up so the elements are ON two layers of plastic rather than IN one layer of plastic? Then you could fold in the bag from the sides, and never have to feel that ‘warmth’…

I know I would try this. It has a spark of genius. But emphasis on spark. Because I can also imagine my dog not feeling well, or not aiming as best he could. What then?

I watch the man start to pull the sides of the bag up after his dog kicks some grass and walks away. But then the man stands up, holds his cigar out, and seems to check for a better angle. I turn away and go back inside. This is something I need not bear witness. It’s probably the first time he’s tried this technique. He saw a window and went for it. I’m sure Edison probably did the same thing…

Fin…