Looks like a lovely path to take a walk on, doesn't it? It would be, save for one thing. This is the fartherest edge of my parents' backyard, the area the dogs use for doing their business.
I think there are all sorts of metaphorical applications that could be made here. I call the spot PooPoo Alley.
PooPoo Alley, don't go there.
yard bombs....that's what I call them, and since the whole back in fair game for my two, I make many daily "poop patrols"
ReplyDeleteThat's probably why it looks so green and pretty...:)
ReplyDeleteAyekah, I think we talked about this before, about lessons learned from the dung heap, or something to that effect...didn't we?
ReplyDeleteAh, Regina Clare Jane, you have probably brought up a very valuable point! Where would we be without the "poo" in our lives?
Yes Annie, we did! I chuckled when I say this post, because it reminded me of that chat. There are many lessons to be learned while pondering life while on poopy patrol. I do some of my best thinking out there among the dirt of life.
ReplyDelete:-D Something to think about!
ReplyDeleteLove the name!!
ReplyDeleteHa ha!
ReplyDeleteLot of wisdom in that.
Hey, girl. I like to hear from you at my place. My husband calls pooply patrol "hunting for Easter eggs". You know, cause the grass grows so lovely and lush where the dog usually goes. The little surprises just sink right down and hide.
ReplyDeleteIt's a stinky place, that PooPoo Alley. Hugs.
ReplyDeletePooPoo Alley, don't go there.
ReplyDeleteThe dogs have been, and I swear
They hide those bombs with lots of care.
Sometimes I'm tempted to wander where
I know I shouldn't. Gives me a scare.
PooPoo Alley, don't go there.
...seems several of us are familiar with PooPoo Alley.
ReplyDeleteDavid, your poetry moves me!