Treat me like dog dirt.

I was walking through the park with the dog today, a typically uninspiring and non-thought provoking daily mission, when I happened upon a rather large pile of dog feces. This meant little to me at the time but as the day moved along, this substantial heap of canine excrement began to form in my mind as a new ambition. I know this sounds weird but stay with me while I explain. If you have ever witnesses human interaction with poop you find, for the larger part, that people act as though said poop might suddenly leap forward and attack them. Think of the gap you strive to place between yourself and big, steaming, lump of dog guano. People are so cautious around it, they move so delicately over and past it. They do everything they can to ensure that bringing their foot to rest upon the Earth will not, somehow end up squishing into the large, primary fertilizer placement and also avoid any possible misstep into a hidden biscuit. People give dog bombs the amount of respect and fear that one would give to a land mine. So, what is it that I find so enviable about this treatment of poopus? It's the space of course. I am by no means, a small person. I am tall enough, broad enough and have enough muscle mass, that you would think would force people to give me room. Sadly, this is not so. In fact, I am astounded on a regular basis, usually at the grocery store, when people actually walk right into, not only my personal space but my body as well. I have had old ladies hit me with their carts more times than I can recall. People suddenly needing to get to and item that is directly in front of me and forcing themselves into a position that puts pressure on my skin. This is what I envy about the power of poop. Truth be known, poop is far less dangerous at any given time than me. If someone tried to stuff me in a bag while I was laying in my front yard, you can bet that they would be in for one hell of a dust up. I am also sure that the slight case of diarrhea one could suffer from while handling feces would be far preferable to the absolutely horrible bought of constipation that they would have to tend with while having a pair of snow pants and a lawn mower removed from their rectum (damn near killed 'um). You don't even want to imagine what I could do to your ground water supply if pushed. So what am I saying? Just this. I am more dangerous than dog poop. I am far more unstable than dog poop. I am far more mobile than dog poop. So please just give me the space that you would give dog poop. I could just remedy the whole thing by smelling of poop or carrying around a poo stick but, this is about having personal space, not being a stinky freak.