We've all been there: An honest talk about dog poop

I'll start with a confession. I have left dog poop behind.

My black lab, Harley, took his business seriously. He'd put his head down and sniff every blade of grass and every fallen leaf, taking his sweet time, until he finally settled on the perfect spot. When he was done, he heard the words he'd been trained to hear: "Good dog."

Harley was also extremely reactive. Every so often, another dog walker would breeze past, figuring Harley was too busy sniffing to notice. Harley always noticed. He'd stop mid-business, let out a bark that could rattle windows, and lunge.

I had training in handling reactive dogs, so I stayed on alert every walk. In those moments, all my attention went to Harley and keeping everyone safe. The poop was the last thing on my mind.

It was only later, after the adrenaline wore off, that I'd remember. Oops. And that pile stayed right where Harley left it.

If you walk a dog in Farmers Branch, whether it's around your apartment complex, down your street, or along one of our trails, I suspect you have a story like mine. Most of us pick up every time. And most of us, at some point, haven't.

Here's what usually gets in the way.

We run out of bags. You grab the leash, head out the door, and realize halfway through the walk that the roll is empty.

The weather turns. A downpour, a cold snap, an icy patch. You and the dog both want to get home.

The dog's stomach is off. There's no graceful way to bag diarrhea. Every dog owner knows this.

We've got our hands full. Two or three leashes, a coffee, a phone. Something has to give.

The dog is reactive. When another dog rounds the corner, all your attention goes to keeping everyone calm. The pile gets forgotten. (Ask me how I know.)

It's dark. Early mornings and late nights make it hard to see what just happened.

The bag rips. Enough said.

None of this makes anyone a bad neighbor. It makes us people with dogs. Still, the poop stays where it landed, and the next person to walk by notices, especially the neighbor who always picks up.

A few things that help

I've picked up (so to speak) some habits over the years that cut down on the misses.

• Stash bags everywhere. Tie a spare to the leash handle, keep a roll in the car, and tuck a few in every jacket pocket.
• Double-bag on messy days. It takes two seconds and saves you from the rip.
• Clip on a light. A small leash light or a headlamp makes night walks easier on everyone.
• Go back. If you had to hustle a reactive dog away or wait out the rain, circle back when things settle down. It's usually still there, unfortunately.
• Bring paper towels for upset stomachs. You won't get it all, and that's okay. Getting most of it counts.
• Walk one at a time when you can. Multi-dog households know this is a luxury, but even occasional solo walks give you a free hand.
• Speak up about empty stations. If you live in an apartment community and the bag dispenser is empty or the trash can is overflowing, tell the office. They often don't know.

And a little grace for each other

If you see a neighbor struggling with three leashes and a surprise, offer a bag. If you spot a pile, remember it might have been left by someone having a rough morning. We share these sidewalks, green spaces and trails, and a little patience goes further than a sign on the lawn.

Harley taught me that the best intentions don't always survive a surprise encounter on the sidewalk. So when I do walk a dog now, I carry extra bags, I go back when I can, and I give my neighbors the same grace I needed.

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